Skyrim: Destiny of the Dragonborn
by BlueSpartan107
Summary: A Nord with a destiny. A Breton with a fire in her soul. An Imperial with a lot of Luck. An Altmer with a gift. And a Dunmer with a dark secret. As the Dragonborn, old and slipping between periods of blindness, tells his story to two traveling brothers, they realize that his actions had all been influenced through mysterious forces beyond their world. Multiple POV. V,L,SC possible.
1. Prologue: Brothers Retreat

Prologue: Brothers Retreat

Ronan looked back at his brother Torygg as they ran from the beast above them. An elder dragon they had disturbed adventuring in the forests near Falkreath was trying to make them its meal. Torygg had used his bow to place a few arrows within its wings and face, but the tough scales that covered its body had protected it more than Torygg thought. And Ronan couldn't use his axe unless it landed right in front of him, which he hoped would not happen. Gods, they may have been Nords, but they weren't trained soldiers or mercenaries.

"Torygg!" Ronan shouted. "I think there's a house ahead of us!"

"Lakeview Manor!" Torygg shout back, followed by another roar from the dragon. "It might be abandoned, though! No one's known to travel to the manor since the Dragonborn disappeared fifty years ago!"

Ronan slid down a rock and crawled behind a tree as flames began shooting out of the humongous creature's mouth. The trees around him began to smoke and burn, and he was afraid they were going to burn the whole forest down. Torygg brought his arms up and began to emit a frost spell to put out the fire near his brother. When the flames died, the dragon roared louder, sending a chill down Ronan's spine.

"It's our only chance! Come on, brother! To Lakeview Manor!" Ronan grabbed his brother's arm and charged out of the forest, being scratched by tree branches but ignoring them. Their legs began to feel like the soft cream of a sweetroll treat as they reached a small road out of the forest. About thirty feet away was the pathway to the manor built by the Dragonborn's own hands. Ronan and Torygg had read from the legends that the Dragonborn had possessed many houses spanning across all of Skyrim, but he built three of them himself with permission from the Jarls within the area of that land. He also possessed many daedric artifacts, swept through many ruins, slayed many bandits, and devoured the souls of many dragons. He was a legend and an icon the brothers had looked up to. They didn't understand why he disappeared.

"Ronan," Torygg panted. "I'm not sure it's a good idea to go near Lakeview Manor. It was once the property of the Dragonborn. What if someone else owns it or it's abandoned and rotting away from the chaos of time?"

Ronan heard the roar of the dragon getting nearer. "I'll take my chances finding a ruin than running out in the open. I'm not ready to meet our ancestors in Sovngarde yet, brother." He broke out running again straight to the house, followed by his nervous brother.

"Ronan!" Torygg shouted as his brother had darted ahead of him. The large building was still intact and incredibly magnificent. The pictures in the books didn't do the manor justice. It was still intact and the wall scones in the front were still lit, which meant someone must have still lived within the house. Ronan and Torygg began to bang on the door, hoping that whoever still lived within would open the door and let them in.

"Help!" Torygg shouted. "There's a dragon out here!"

"We need help!" Ronan continued. It was when they stopped banging on the door, however, when the dragon landed in front of the house. Ronan and Torygg turned to face the beast again. Its nostrils flared and the two brothers could feel the heat building up within its mouth as it prepared to shout them to death and burn the manor down in front of them.

That was when the door opened.

Ronan and Torygg had pulled out their weapons and magic ready to fight, but they didn't realize the armored man walking out of the building. When their eyes caught his moving figure, they saw the studded armor, the skyforge steel sword emitting the coldness of Skyrim's greatest mountains, the black iron shield, and the recognizable iron helm worn by none other than the man himself.

The Dragonborn.

"FUS-RO-DAH!" The man yelled as the power of the voice shook the elder dragon in front of him. After having seemingly disappeared for fifty years, the Dragonborn was not only standing right next to Ronan and Torygg, but was also demonstrating the power of his voice right in front of them. It was just as they imagined it would sound like.

**"DOH-VAH-KIIN!" **The elder dragon shouted as he staggered from their old foe's voice.

The Dragonborn then charged right at the monster with his sword ready to strike. Seeing the old hero charge straight at the dragon gave the brothers a bit of courage as they charged as well. Ronan brought his battle axe down upon the dragon's right wing, cleaving through the softer wing tissue. The dragon would have roared in anger had it not been for Torygg jumping onto its back with two steel daggers piercing its spine. The Dragonborn had brought his sword down upon the beast's head and slashed through its face with his sword, hitting it with his shield when it attempted to shout back.

"Fall, damn you!" Torygg shouted from the dragon's back.

The Dragonborn then hopped onto the dragon's head, ignoring the chomps of the dragon's jaw that attempted to kill him or at least remove his opponent from his head. He continued to slash at the creature until he released his death cry, falling limp in front of the brothers. The Dragonborn hopped off of the dragon and put his sword in its sheath. Torygg pulled his daggers out of its body and slid off as the dragon's body began to decay. The soul of the dragon began to flow into the Dragonborn, bringing him to feel the familiar sharing of knowledge and power that all dragons held. Ronan and Torygg were astounded by witnessing it. Only when the bones of the dragon remained did either of them talk.

"I can't believe it." Ronan spoke. "You're really him. The Dragonborn."

The Dragonborn turned around to face him, but that was when Ronan noticed the bandage across his eyes. He was old enough to be considered their grandfather, so he guessed that was the reason why he was blind. But it surprised him that he was.

"You have come a long way from home, Ronan and Torygg of Solitude. My name is Zacharius Morrigan, and I was once known across Tamriel as the Dragonborn, Slayer of Alduin, Bane of the Vampire Lords, Hero of Skyrim, and Executioner of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak."

"How do you know our names?" Torygg asked.

"The Elder Scrolls told me about your arrival. Just as it told my grandfather about Alduin's return, and my destiny to slay him. Before I had these periods of blindness, I saw your arrival at my doorstep in one of the scrolls."

"Periods of blindness?"

"An effect I learnerd from the moth priests. But that can all be talked about tomorrow. For the sun sets and you have been running for so long. You need food and rest for your journey."

Ronan and Torygg looked at each other for a few seconds. Ronan spoke first.

"We'd be honored to be allowed into your home. It's the rarest of opportunities to be allowed into the home of a living legend."

"The honor is mine to have such eager guests after so long." The old man extended his hand, which the brothers shook. "Come inside. My wife has baked some pies and made some venison chops."

"Venison." Torygg drooled. "It's been quite a while since I was actually able to go hunting. Aside from the dragon, of course."

"Which we simply ran away from." Ronan added.

"It is all right to experience fear." Zacharius answered. "When I saw Alduin for the first time, I had never been so scared in my entire life. But then I faced him down and secured my destiny. And more."

"Not many of those guards patrolling the cities show fear when a dragon attacks."

"That's because they wear those helmets that cover their faces. They're silly little things. But it protects their faces, so they should count themselves lucky." Zacharius took off his helmet as he walked through the house. Ronan and Torygg found it strange that he was walking around his house as if he wasn't blind. Normally a blind man needed someone to take care of them so they could walk around a city, let alone the man's own home.

"You seem to know how to navigate around everything even though you're blind." Ronan noted out loud.

"I'll take that as a compliment. It's because I've trained my ears over time the way a dovah uses his ears."

"A dovah?"

"In their tongue, it means dragon. Why do you think that elder dragon referred to me as Dovahkiin? It's Dragonborn in their tongue."

"So you understand their language?"

"Yes." Zacharius sat himself at the table as an old woman in a white dress brought out a few plates and a younger woman brought out a platter of venison steaks. Torygg caught the eye of the younger woman. She was a Redguard in her late twenties at the very least. She had a scimitar on her belt like that of the many Redguards that visited the country, and the features on her face made her look far more beautiful than any of the women in Solitude.

Ronan kicked his brother's shin when the Dragonborn 'stared' in his direction.

"So, it was just as you said, my love." The older woman smirked. "We would finally have guests at our home. About time, too."

"They came at the right time, as well, my love." Zacharius took his wife's hand and placed a gentle kiss onto her palm.

"Should I bring them ale, sir?" The younger woman asked.

"Don't give Torygg Honningbrew Ale." Ronan immediately warned. "It goes to his head so fast. Last time he drank so many bottles he was utterly convinced a chicken was a dragon and he set it on fire."

"Hey, that's in the past!" Torygg snapped.

"Don't shout at me. We're guests in the Dragonborn's house. We must respect his hospitality."

"That's a good idea." Zacharius joked. "Only I can shout in my house."

Ronan and Torygg dropped their argument and laughed at the Dragonborn's joke.

"I'm sure the mead will be fine, Mirileen." Zacharius bowed his head to his servant. She brought out five mead bottles and set them in front of the plates. Torygg watched as Mirileen set down a venison chop onto everyone's plates. Then she placed some mashed potatoes and carrots onto the plates and sat down in the seat closest to Torygg.

The entire dinner was spent with Ronan and Torygg explaining their story. Ronan was an adventurer and occasionally offered to be a bodyguard or mercenary to the right person. Torygg was a mage and a hunter who had studied at the College of Winterhold for a few years. He currently was travelling with his older brother because he needed a break from college business. They had just passed through Falkreath when the dragon attacked, which led to them being at the doorstep of Lakeview Manor.

After dinner Mirileen took all of the dishes to be washed in the kitchen, and Torygg offered to help her out. Ronan and Zacharius went into the armory, where Ronan saw manacins that were dressed in clothes and armors that he recognized as the many foes the Dragonborn had slain in his prime. The robes of Miraak from his time in Solstheim, the raiment of Lord Harkon the Vampire Lord, a set of Hardened Falmer armor, and even a light and heavy variant of the armors made from dragon scales and bones.

"Quite an impressive collection." Ronan commented.

"Thank you. I earned or made everything within this house through blood, sweat, and tears. I had endured plenty of hardships and trials in the past, but I had an unfair advantage for some of those moments."

"Which was?"

"Knowledge."

Ronan nodded as he heard Mirileen and Torygg laughing in the kitchen. "Fair warning, I think that my brother has a thing for your servant."

"Mirileen is a young woman. She is the steward of this house and she takes care of me and my wife, but I expect her to make her own choices. Her mother, Rayya, was the first steward of Lakeview Manor, and she let her daughter take over when she was too old to help. The rest of her family moved to Hammerfell, and the poor girl hasn't done much around here besides work. It's good to have company every once in a while over, but since I secluded myself, the company became less and less."

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you seclude yourself to this house?"

"After I defeated Ulfric Stormcloak, I felt that my presense wasn't needed anymore. I had killed a tyrant, a ghost, a vampire lord, and the world-eater. Nothing else was written within the scrolls except the future I could write for myself. So I chose to take care of my family. Now they're grown up, seeking their own fortunes or living with their spouces."

"But after they grew up why didn't you go back into the world and perform amazing feats like the days of old?"

"Because the world didn't need me anymore. I still went out to the other holds, but I wasn't dressed in my armor. I visited friends, bought supplies, and met with my children and grandchildren. Everyone else saw me as what I once was: a person. Not an icon or a legend, but a person. My time for greatness is over. It's my children who now carry on the legacy of the Dragonborn. At least my youngest does. My first two children I adopted after building this house. My youngest son possesses the dragonblood, and I sent him to learn from the greybeards. He's become a great man now, and I am proud for all of my children."

"Do you ever miss the old days?"

"A bit. I remember my wife complaining about how I always asked her to carry some things. I always gave her a back rub when we set up camp after hauling plenty of the treasures we had collected from ruins and tombs. She enjoyed that."

"That's good. A man should always place the needs of his woman and his children over the needs of himself."

"And that's exactly what I did."

Ronan stood in silence for a few minutes, staring at the raiment of Lord Harkon for a few moments. "If it's not too much to ask, but would you share the tale of your adventures with us?"

Zacharius smiled. "Tomorrow morning. For now, we should all turn in and get some rest."

"Okay. Where should my brother and I sleep?"

"We have beds all around the house. Make yourself at home. Just remember the double bed is for me and my wife."

"Don't worry. We'll stay out of your bed. Good night, Dragonborn."

"Please, call me Zacharius."

Ronan nodded. "Very well, Zacharius." He headed to the kitchen, dragged his brother away from Mirileen, and found the two beds on the top floor that hadn't been touched. He began to remove his armor as his brother began talking.

"So, is he going to tell us about his adventures?"

"He will in the morning." Ronan stretched his muscles after his chestplate was set on the floor. His gauntlets and boots followed afterwards before he collapsed on his bed. His brother had merely taken off his boots and lay on the bed opposite of his brother.

"Miri's a nice enough girl. She told me about how her family moved back to Hammerfell. She likes working for the Dragonborn. He's far too kind to her, and he treats her like she's family. Her mother served him for many years as steward of the manor."

"Yeah, he told me. He also said he disappeared because he felt the world didn't need him anymore. It was like the Champion of Cyrrodil. They did so much for the world and saved it from total destruction, but then they just slide out of history. Why?"

"Hell if I know, brother. Hell if I know."

Ronan dozed off immediately after that, dreaming of all the amazing things the Dragonborn must've done in his prime.

The next morning, Ronan found himself waking up to the smell of potato soup and sweet rolls. He got out of his bed and dressed himself in his armor again, leaving his steel battle axe leaning against the wall where he had left it. He walked down the stairs in a yawn, stretching his arms out as far as he could. Mirileem and Torygg were setting down plates and bowls at the table, and Zacharius was bringing down a large pile of books in his two hands. The bandage around his eyes was gone now, and Ronan could see the blue irises that lay beneath. His hair was still the silver strands that rest on his head, and he was wearing a belted tunic instead of his famed studded armor.

"Can you see today?" Ronan asked.

"Yes, thank the Nine. If I couldn't see, it'd make the journals of our exploits useless. At least if I'm telling the story."

"There were hints in the history books that you were a worshipper of Talos. Is that true?"

"Yes." Zacharius set the journals down. "I still am, actually. I have a shrine to him underneath my house."

"And the collection of the daedric artifacts?"

"Sometimes the daedra have a twisted sense of humor. But those are stories for later. We must start at the beginning in order for you to understand." He motioned for Ronan to take a seat, and the younger man obeyed. Once everyone had seated with food in their spots, everyone ate silently until their bowls of potato soup were consumed and the sweetrolls were devoured, but Torygg had mostly tore through those because Mrileen baked them.

"Oh, my." Torygg moaned. "These are the best sweetrolls I have ever consumed."

"I can tell, brother. You ate half of them off the damn plate." Ronan criticized. "I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up puking your guts out in the middle of the story."

"I sure hope not. The Dragonborn has a lot of good stories."

Zacharius laughed. "Indeed I do. But you have to understand that not everything said in the history books is true. These journals are my history recorded by me and my friends. And it all started fifty years ago, when my grandfather died."

Zacharius pulled out a particular journal from his stack. It was by far the oldest journal in the bunch, and it was still well-preserved. He held it out to Ronan and Torygg, who took it carefully and looked at the writing on the pages:

_I saw the signs. The last elder scroll I saw foretold of this. Skyrim; my homeland, will be ravaged by war near the dawn of the next century. Brothers will slaughter each other over what they believe in, and no one will be prepared for what happens next. Some would call me crazy if I had said this out loud, but I saw the return of the dragons, the harbingers of the end times. Yet somehow within the darkness, I saw a ray of hope. Five souls within the darkness that will be responsible for the world-eater's destruction. A Nord with a destiny, a Breton with a fire in her heart, an Imperial with a lot of luck, an Altmer with a gift, and a Dumner with a dark secret. Among them will be one with the dragonblood that the Septim bloodline once possessed. It will be the destiny of the Dragonborn to save the world from the darkness that threatens to poison this world with their influence._

_But I must stop writing for now. I must push the thoughts of the vision from my mind so I may meet with my daughter's suitor. I hear he is a strong Nord that has commanded much respect from within the Imperial Guard. Perhaps he is everything I search for in a son-in-law._

"So a moth priest actually foresaw the return of the dragons?" Ronan asked.

"Yes. In fact, it was my grandfather who prophecized the return of the dragons. His journal was actually passed to me after his death. It was on the night of my twenty-fifth birthday, actually. He had been murdered in his home with an elven dagger that was left in his side. His home had also been wrecked, but whoever had commited the crime left no indication that anything was actually stolen."

"Damn. Who killed him?"

"I believed it to be a Thalmor plot. They had been poking around my home during the time, and I suspected they murdered him to get to me. However, my parents encouraged me not to take the fight to the Thalmor. Instead, they invited me back home and gave me the journal, saying that for my sake I needed to head to Skyrim with the journal to protect it from the Thalmor. After the Empire had signed the White-Gold Concordat, my family had growing suspicious of the Thalmor. I had, too, but not enough to become biased of all elves like Ulfric Stormcloak. In fact, I had quite a few elven allies throughout my years. One ally was a Dunmer named Tarius. He was a trader by nature and smuggled my grandfather's journal into Skyrim for me."

"Why did you have it smuggled into Skyrim?" Torygg asked.

"Because my story started out badly. I had tried to sneak across the border into Skyrim where I had first ran into Ulfric Stormcloak and his men, as well as a thief that had stolen a horse."

"The history books never mention that. They say that you were just in Helgen when Alduin first appeared in the world again."

"Well, the history books were wrong. You see, I wasn't in Helgen as a guest when Alduin attacked. Alduin had actually saved my life. I was going to the chopping block with Ulfric Stormcloak."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think that sets the stage for my new Skyrim story. I won't promise a regular updating schedule, but I'll try to place a chapter up around the same time as my other story. And if anybody has recommendations for things to happen within the story, feel free to leave a review or PM. I plan on focusing on the main quest and the guild quests, all with different characters. But if you want certain side quests or anything else along the lines of characters, scenes, or even (dare I say it) sex, you know who to contact.

Also, if you aren't a follower of my main story, Mass Effect: Resolution, and you're a fan of Mass Effect, I recommend you give it a read. You might enjoy it.


	2. Chapter 1: Unbound

Chapter 1: Unbound

_"So you were a prisoner of the Empire because you were caught crossing the border?" Ronan asked._

_"Yes. They had knocked me out and removed the fur armor I was wearing to enter the country, placing me in ragged clothes and sandals as they carted me to Helgen with the thief and their prisoners of war. Apparently, this one bitch was determined to have me executed just because I was on the cart. I killed her during our escape, but only because she swung first. Back then, I was paranoid enough to believe she was a Thalmor agent, but she probably was having a rough enough day as it was at the time. I remember the cart ride specifically. It was a foggy morning in Helgen at the time, but evrything became clear when Alduin came down. The first thing I remember was waking up on the cart."_

Zacharius woke up to the sound of the wheels grinding on the stones of the road, groaning as he tried to remember how he got into this situation.

_Oh, right. _He remembered. _That's why._

A Nord with yellow hair looked right at him. He was wearing a blue cuirass of sorts, and he held a friendly glance.

"Hey, you." The man spoke towards him. "You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush? Same as us, and that thief over there."

Zacharius turned his head towards a brown-haired Nord who held a glare on his face towards the man he first saw when he awoke.

"Damn you, Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you showed up. Empire was nice and lazy. If it hadn't been for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

"Shut up back there!" The Imperial cart driver yelled. Zacharius had learned from his father to respect the Imperial Legion's troops and fighting skills, but it was harder to respect them when he was a prisoner on one of their carts.

"What's wrong with him?" The thief asked, nodding towards a fourth man in the cart. His mouth was gagged at the same exact time as his hands being bound, and he wore fancy clothing that only a noble would wear.

"Watch your tongue!" The Stormcloak snapped. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak! The true High King!"

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they captured you... Oh, Gods! Where are they taking us?!"

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."

"No! This can't be happening! This isn't happening!"

Zacharius found himself in a panicked state as well, but he remained calm enough on the outside. If he actually was going to meet his ancestors, he was going to do so on his terms, like a true Nord.

"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?"

"Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

"Rorikstead. I'm... I'm from Rorikstead."

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" An Imperial shouted from within the village they approached.

"Good." A man in golden armor responded. "Let's get this over with."

"Headsman?" Zacharius finally spoke. "My grandfather never mentioned anything about a headsman in his journal."

The Stormcloak looked over his shoulder as the thief tried praying to the gods to help him. "Look at him! General Tullius, the military governor! And it looks like the Thalmor are with him! Damn elves! I bet they had something to do with this!"

Zacharius caught a glimpse of the Thalmor before he bowed his head, hoping they did not notice him and tried to take him prisoner. If they knew about him, they probably would try to take him for themselves, and he heard about their torture methods.

"This is Helgen." The Stormcloak spoke softly. "I used to be sweet on a girl here. I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with Juniper berries mixed in. Funny. When I was a boy, Imperial walls used to make me feel so safe."

"I know the feeling." Zacharius spoke quietly. "I lived in the Imperial City up until now. It was nothing more than a cage. I realized that some time ago."

The cart started to slow down.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief asked.

"Why do you think? End of the line." The cart stopped and the Stormcloak faced Zacharius. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."

"No, wait! We're not rebels!" The thief cried out to deaf ears.

"Face your death with some courage, thief."

"You have to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"

"Step towards the block when we call your name!" An Imperial woman barked. "One at a time!"

Zacharius had planted his feet on the ground as the Stormcloak began to mutter. "Empire loves their damn lists."

A young More in Imperial light armor began reading off of the list. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

The Jarl walked towards the block with the rest of his people.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." The Stormcloak nodded as his leader walked over to the group.

"Ralof of Riverwood." The man reading the list spoke the name of the Stormcloak who had been talking this whole time. He walked over and joined his leader. "Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" Lokir attempted to make a run for it.

"Halt!" The Imperial woman screamed.

"What in Oblivion is he thinking?" Zacharius asked out loud.

"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir yelled as he ran for the entrance.

"Archers!" The woman yelled as an Imperial bowman pulled back his string and fired and arrow straight through the thief's back, piercing his heart and traveling out through his chest. "Anyone else feel like running?!"

The man reading the list turned and faced Zacharius. "Wait. You there. Step forward." Zacharius did as instructed and walked forward. "Who are you?"

"My name is Zacharius Morrigan, and unlike the rest of those you have captured, I've commited no crime. I was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time. You must believe me."

"Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list."

"Forget the list." The woman said harshly. "He goes to the block."

"By your orders, Captain. I'm sorry. At least you'll die here in your homeland. Follow the captain, prisoner."

Zacharius looked down in defeat and walked into the group. General Tullius walked up to Ulfric Stormcloak.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Ulfric moaned through the cloth around his mouth, obviously frustrated that he had been gagged.

"You started this war; plunged Skyrim into chaos! And now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace!"

Suddenly a loud roar could be heard from across the mountains.

"What was that?" The man that had read the list asked.

"It's nothing. Carry on."

The Imperial woman planted a fist on her chest. "Yes, General Tullius! Give them their last rights."

A priestess of Arkay stepped up and raised her hands. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight divines upon ye, for you are the soul of the earth of Nirn-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!" An unnamed Stormcloak yelled as he stepped out ready to die.

"As you wish." The priestess spat as he stood over the chopping block.

"Come on! I haven't got all morning!" The woman pushed him onto the block with his head to the side. "My ancestors are smiling on me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

The headsman brought his axe down hard on the man, cleaving his head off with precise motion. The Imperial woman kicked his body off of the block, and shouts of both agreement and disagreement began to fill the town square.

"As fearless in death as he was in life." Ralof paid his respects to the man executed.

"Next, the Nord in the rags!" The Imperial woman shouted before another roar echoed the mountains; this time much louder and closer.

"There it is again!" The man who had read the list noted. "Did you hear that?"

"I said _next prisoner!_" The woman barked, as if she wanted Zacharius dead for doing something to her or her family that would leave a personal vendetta.

"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy."

"As if there was any other way, you stubborn milk-drinkers." Zacharius walked up to the block, and the woman's foot was planted on his back much harder than he wanted it to be. He faced the tower as the headsman prepared to swing his axe.

"What in Oblivion is that?!" A man yelled as a dragon flew up to the tower. The soldiers began talking to each other as it landed on top of the tower, startling the headsman as its landing sent a shockwave across the town.

"Dragon!" A woman yelled. The dragon literally yelled right at Zacharius as a bunch of rocks began falling from the sky. Some were killed by the dragon's first attack, but others began to flee as he switched to summoning fire from his throat. Zacharius himself was laying on the ground next to the body of the man that was killed first. The pool of blood that had flown from his body was pushing closer to his head, and he was afraid to move as the dragon flew overhead.

"Hey, come on, kinsman!" Zacharius lifted himself up as he heard the Nord Ralof call for him. "Let's go! The gods won't give us another chance!"

Zacharius quickly got back up on his feet, using the headsman's axe to free the restraints on his wrists in one swift motion before he sprinted over to Ralof. The man closed the tower door behind him as the dragon had started breathing fire at the doorway.

"Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?!"

"Legends don't burn down villages." The Jarl responded, his voice deep and strong. "We need to move now!"

Ralof motioned to Zacharius. "Up through the tower! Let's move!"

Zacharius followed up the stairs until the dragon bashed his head through a wall, covering a Stormcloak in debris before summoning more fire from his mouth. Zacharius stepped back before the blazing inferno sent him to Oblivion. The dragon flew away when it finished breathing fire.

"Damn. No going up that way."

Ralof looked out the hole in the wall to see a path into the house next to the tower. "Jump through the roof! We'll catch up with you when we can."

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"What? Are you a milk-drinker?"

"What did you call me?" Zacharius growled, looking down at the ground below. "Although..." Snapping out of his negative thoughts, he jumped out of the tower, rolling around on the top floor of the house he jumped through. Parts of it were on fire, and there were plenty of holes from the meteor shower the dragon had caused. He manuevered around the rubble and fire, walking outside through a hole in the wall. The Imperial that had called all of the names on the list was trying to get a child away from the dragon as it landed on the ground. The boy ran towards him as the dragon spewed fire again, burning a wounded man that laid on the ground.

The man pulled out his sword. "Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way." He turned and faced an old man who crouched beside the boy. "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense."

"Gods guide you, Hadvar." Gunnar responded, taking the boy and running inside the building.

"Let's go, prisoner! We need to move!" Hadvar ran past the burnt corpse of the man, and Zacharius followed suite, knowing that Hadvar was currently his best chance at escaping. They jumped down behind another house, but the dragon landed on top of the stone wall above them. "Stay close to the wall!"

Zacharius brought himself against the wall as the dragon spat more fire at an Imperial archer. "Does that dragon know any more tricks than breathing fire?"

"I don't think it would be wise to ask it that." The dragon flew away, giving Hadvar and Zacharius the chance to run away. They passed by a group of soldiers who had flung every spell and arrow at the beast, but somehow Zacharius knew that wouldn't be enough. They ran for the keep in order to escape, but Ralof appeared out of nowhere with an axe in his hand.

"Ralof, you damn traitor! Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar! You're not stopping us this time!"

"Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!" Hadvar ran for one door while Ralof ran towards Zacharius.

"Come on! Into the Keep! Let's go!"

Zacharius followed Ralof into the Keep, slamming the door as the dragon landed right in front of it. He panted frantically at what had happened. So strange how the events since entering Skyrim had been so chaotic. He knew his grandfather foresaw the return of the dragons, but he didn't think he would be here to witness it.

Ralof ran to the corpse of a dead Stormcloak soldier. "We'll meet again in Sovngarde, brother." He stood back up and faced Zacharius, who had just got out of his shocked state. "That thing was a dragon. No doubt about it. You better take Gungar's gear. He won't need it anymore. I'm going to find a way out of here."

Zacharius shrugged his shoulders and started to remove the armor of the fallen soldier and place it on himself. He thanked Talos that the armor fit him. The axe, however, was not his favorite weapon. He'll make due with it for now, but when a sword could be found he'd take that instead.

"Any luck?" Zacharius asked as Ralof walked back to him.

"The door's locked. And that gate is only opened from the other side." Ralof cocked his head. "Wait. What's that?"

Zacharius looked to see that the Imperial woman and another soldier were running to the gate. He immediately hid to the side of the wall where he couldn't see them, and Ralof did the same on the other side. When the gate opened, they ambushed the two soldiers; Zacharius focusing on the woman while Ralof fought the man. After a few swings against her, Zacharius went low, knocking the woman off her feet as he delivered a quick death.

"Bitch!" He yelled as he turned to see Ralof finishing the other man with two axes.

"Let's see here." Ralof began to search the pockets of the Imperials as Zacharius headed in the direction of where they came from. Ralof found the key but saw the other man disappear behind a corner.

"What are you doing?!" Ralof whispered seriously.

A second later Zacharius came back around the corner with a sword on his belt. "I wanted a sword. The Imperials use swords so small, they could be classified as daggers."

"I have the key. Let's move!" Ralof and Zacharius went over and unlocked the door, running down the hallway before the dragon knocked down the ceiling in the hallway they were in. Luckily, neither of them were hurt.

"Damn. That dragon is very presistent." Zacharius muttered as they took the doorway to their left. They found a supply room with two more Imperial soldiers, but Ralof and Zacharius made short work of them. Since Zacharius knew how the Legion fought, he could counter their attacks and finish them off quickly. Ralof had likely fought a lot of Imperials in the campaign for Skyrim, but he didn't kill his opponent as quickly as Zacharius had.

"There might be some useful things in here. Take a look around and see if there's anything we can use." Ralof walked over to the door while Zacharius searched the barrels, taking a few apples, potions, and septims from what was left over. He placed it in a small satchel he quickly hooked onto his belt.

"I'm ready. Let's go." When Ralof heard those words, he and Zacharius continued down the corridors to a torture room, where a jailor was fighting against a few Stormcloaks. Ralof immediately jumped in to help his brothers, slaying the Dumner that had threatened the life of his brothers.

"Troll's blood! It's a torture room!" Ralof exclaimed.

"What were you expecting?" Zacharius commented. "The Empire is a lot darker than it was in the days of the Septim dynasty. Even back then, they weren't the prettiest , but at least they didn't use these."

"That cage over there." Ralof pointed. "Looks like there's some gold in there. I think it's locked, though."

Zacharius looked at the lock. "Do you have a set of lockpicks on you, anyone?"

Ralof handed him some lockpicks and he immediately opened the door like there was no trouble. He then took the gold and the robes from the dead man within. He wasn't much of a spellcaster, but he might be able to do something with the robes later. He then saw a book and a satchel on the table behind them.

"We should keep moving." Ralof spoke, but Zacharius rummaged through the bag, finding a steel dagger, a few more lockpicks, and a potion of healing. He placed these things in his satchel and took the book on the table. Realizing it was a book of the Dragonborn, he put it in his satchel, thinking it might be a good read later.

"I'm ready." Zacharius motioned, running with Ralof and the others out of the torture room. It was then that they entered a system of caves, running into a bunch of Imperials that had been waiting for General Tullius to catch up. Instead, the Stormcloaks went and slaughtered them all. Zacharius didn't exactly enjoy fighting his father's men, but his worshipping of Talos was probably enough for the Imperials to want to slaughter him had they known.

"We'll stay behind in case the Jarl passes through." One of the Stormcloaks suggested.

"Very well." Ralof acknowleged. "My friend and I will continue to find a way out."

Zacharius had pulled off a bow and all of the arrows the Imperials had been carrying by then. "Wonderful." He followed Ralof down the hallway to a wooden bridge. Zacharius then pulled the lever next to it to lower the bridge down for them. The bridge came down with a crash, and Ralof charged over it quickly. Zacharius followed and stopped when he heard the dragon roaring again. This time, a rock fell down the tunnel and broke the bridge, and Zacharius was happy he had crossed the bridge before then.

"No going back that way." Ralof muttered. "Let's go. I'm sure the others will find another way out of here." Zacharius followed Ralof through the cave more, running into a skeleton with a coin purse. Being the kind of guy who doesn't leave coins laying around in caves, he took the coin purse, tying it to his belt. When they turned the corner, however, they met a monster Zacharius never encountered in Cyrrodil.

Frostbite spiders.

"You've got to be kidding me." He pulled out his bow and shot an arrow at one, killing it instantly. Another arrow was loaded and hit a second spider in its eye. He pulled his sword out as Ralof caught up, cutting and stabbing two more spiders as Ralof swung his axe at another. Soon enough, the giant abominations were dead.

"I always hated those things." Ralof noted. "Too many eyes."

"What's next?" Zacharius asked. "Giant snakes?"

"Giant snakes with legs and arms, no doubt." Ralof joked.

"That would be horrifying." Zacharius muttered. "It'd be worse if they could take your form after they eat you." Zacharius shook the thought out of his mind, realizing he was talking about the stories of the continent of Akavir. "Let's keep going."

"Right." Ralof put his axe on his belt and continued through the caves with Zacharius. They saw a bear sleeping within the cave, but they snuck around it, deciding to avoid a confrontation they didn't need. The bear stayed sound asleep as they snuck past it, running through what remained of the cave and to the outside world.

"Freedom." Zacharius whispered. However, the roar of the dragon dragged him back to reality as it flew right above them. They hid behind a rock until the dragon flew out of sight into the mountains.

"Looks like its gone for good this time." Ralof commented.

"Yeah. But where did it come from?"

"I don't know. If it weren't for that dragon, however, we'd be dead. My sister, Gerdur, owns the mill in Riverwood down the road. I'm sure she'll be willing to help you out with whatever you plan to do next."

"Good. I was hoping to get to Whiterun to meet up with a friend. He's a roaming trader who has something of mine with him. He promised to meet me there."

"If my sister can help you prepare for your journey, you could be out by the morning. I wouldn't have made it without your help today, friend."

Zacharius laughed. "And I wouldn't have made it without yours."

_"So you escaped with Ralof of Riverwood?" Torygg asked. "The one who brought the war into Ulfric Stormcloak's favor?"_

_"Yes. He was an honorable Nord and I respected the hospitality of his sister. When she asked me to head off to Whitetun to ask for troops, I couldn't refuse. I had planned to go there to meet my friend, a Dumner named Tarius, so I could've also gone in to represent the people of Riverwood."_

_"There were a few guards sent to protect the town."_

_"Indeed they did. But on the road to Whiterun was where I ran into two of the people mentioned from my grandfather's journal. An Imperial thief named Errick and a Breton warrior named Akira."_

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I figured I'd hammer out another chapter for this story real quick. I've also completed a good chunk of my Mass Effect chapter for when I update that. The next chapter will introduce the members of the Companions and the Thieves Guild that will follow the Dragonborn. Errick is meant to be the comedic relief of the story while Akira is more of a serious type of character who hides her past from many people. Soon after, I will introduce the elf characters who will reside in the College of Winterhold and the Dark Brotherhood.

Until next time.


	3. Chapter 2: The Thief and the Warrior

Chapter 2: The Thief and the Warrior

**Quick note: **Events that happened during the Dragonborn's story that he did not know of directly will be highlighted by the * icon shown here. These events are from important characters within the story that need to show certain events such as characters outside of the five main characters from during the game (ex. Astrid, Kodlak, etc.) exchanging words with someone else away from the Dragonborn and friends' ears. Let it be known that all of the journals were written by Zacharius, Errick, Akira, Scarlai, and Stryger (Dragonborn, Guild master, Harbinger, Listener, and Arch-Mage), which is why the story has multiple P.O.V.

*Hadvar lay in that cave for what seemed like hours. The Stormcloaks had reunited with their leader and Hadvar tried to stop them. He had taken a dagger to the side, however, and was now left for dead in this cave. Bastards. He at least had been able to take out two of them before he had taken his injury.

He was just about to pass out from blood loss when he heard a noise. It sounded like footsteps coming his way. No doubt it had to be the Stormcloaks coming to finish him off. Hadvar had no plans of going out without a fight, however. He picked up his sword and stuck it out towards the man that had approached him.

This man wasn't wearing Stormcloak gear. He wore an outfit that looked like he was a Vigilant of Stendarr. The steel plate helmet he wore covered his face, so he was unsure this man was friend or foe. The iron greatsword on his back might've said foe if the man's hands weren't glowing with restorative energies.

_"Do you wish to be healed?" _Thestranger in front of him asked. Hadvar could've sworn the man's voice held an echo, but perhaps it was just because of the amount of blood he lost.

Unable to utter a sound, Hadvar resorted to nodding his head.

The Stranger then brought his hand to Hadvar's wound, using his restoration abilities to heal the man's wound. Hadvar shuddered and groaned. The wound must've been more severe than he thought. But he was able to calm down as the wound healed at an alarming rate. When there was nothing more than a scar left, The Stranger removed his hand from Hadvar's side, bringing a water pouch to the man's mouth.

_"Drink." _He commanded. The man obeyed, drinking the water within the pouch to bring moisture to his mouth again. _"It took a lot of energy to heal your wound. You will need food and bed rest for a few days before you can travel again."_

"Thank you." Hadvar spoke, his voice still harsh. "My uncle is in Riverwood, just to the North from here. Will you help me up?"

The Stranger grabbed the man's hand, pulling him up slowly to avoid harming or staggering him. Hadvar groaned again as the spot where he had been stabbed ached. The Stranger then put his arm over his shoulder and began to help him walk out of the cave.

"So, who is it my uncle has to thank? Are you a Vigilant of Stendarr?"

_"No, although I passed a few in my travels across Skyrim. I came up here to investigate the rumors of a dragon in this area. Helgen was destroyed, and you were the only survivor here I found."_

"That dragon came out of nowhere. I suspect General Tullius escaped along with some of the other men, but they didn't take the Keep like they had planned. I was attempting to escape with one of the prisoners that was going to be executed, but he went with the Stormcloak traitor, Ralof."

_"What was this prisoner's name?"_

"Zacharius Morrigan, I think."

The Stranger nodded. _"Zacharius Morrigan was a Thalmor target. They suspected him of Talos worship and attempted to capture him in the Imperial City."_

"And you would know this how?"

_"I do business with the couriers. They hear things and I say things. It's an even trade."_

Hadvar blinked as they stepped outside. It was midnight by now and the stars were out. The walk along the road was quiet. No wolves or bandits came out of hiding to strike at them, and everything just seemed too peaceful. He could see Bleak Falls Barrow in the distance, and he was glad he wasn't alone right now.

"You still didn't tell me who you are."

_"Names are pretty, but useless for one-time encounters. I am simply a stranger passing by."_

"But my uncle's a smith. He could craft you something you could use."

_"Unless he pushes the issue, I need nothing from you." _The Stranger replied as they reached Riverwood. The house was right in front of them, and Hadvar didn't need to say anything to get them to his uncle's house. The Stranger pulled him up the stairs and knocked on the door. A man in a blacksmith's apron opened the door, immediately shocked at what he saw.

"Shor's bones, boy. Why do you look like you lost a fight with a cave bear? And who's this?"

"He's a friend. I need a place to rest, uncle. A lot has happened."

"Well, come on in. Set yourself on the bed and relax. You look like you need sleep."

Hadvar and The Stranger walked towards the bed and Hadvar sat down, careful not to disturb his aching side. "Thank you, Stranger."

"Now," Alvor spoke. "what happened to you, Hadvar?"

"We had captured Ulfric Stormcloak and some of his men, and we were about to kill them in Helgen using the chopping block. But then a dragon came out of nowhere and destroyed the town. I was forced to escape through the keep alone, but I was stabbed by one of Ulfric's men. By chance, this man came to my rescue and healed my wound to the best of his ability."

"Really?" Alvor asked, turning towards The Stranger. "And how exactly do you play in, Stranger?"

_"I had been investigating the signs and sounds of the dragon from the mountains. By the time I reached Helgen, it was nightfall and everyone who still drew breath had left. I investigated all of the buildings and found your nephew in a cave, still grasping his bleeding side. Like he said, I had done all I could for him, but he still needs food and rest for a few days."_

"Damn. If a dragon is on the loose, Riverwood is defenseless. We need to send word for the Jarl that we need guards here in case a dragon does come to attack us."

_"I could head out immediately and see about reinforcements. If not, I can have someone stop by Whiterun or send a courier to deliver a message."_

"It's night time. The Jarl won't be at his court for several hours. And you should rest up, too."

_"I will be fine. I've gone longer without rest."_

"And besides, you need to be rewarded for your actions like any true friend of Skyrim."

_"I do not perform actions in the hopes of earning coin. I perform actions because those actions are the right thing to do."_

"But surely you deserve something for your efforts. A warrior of your skill doesn't desire anything?"

The Stranger looked at the sword on his back. While it had served his mortal guise well, the iron greatsword was in dire need of sharpening. _"If you really wish to help, I would much like a new greatsword. Something original, but with detail not seen by other swords. Something that would mark the sword as mine, and the craftsman as yours."_

"I may be able to help you with that. But I'll need a few items for that. Bring me a few gems and an ancient Nordic greatsword for the model, and I'll use any and all of my materials to craft you a fine blade."

_"The gems I can offer now." _The Stranger pulled out a few rubies and sapphires. _"The greatsword I would need to find."_

"There are possibly greatswords within Bleak Falls Barrow just up the mountain, but be warned, the draugr walk the halls still."

_"I do not fear the dead. I shall head out at daylight to retrieve a greatsword for you."_

"That would be best. You two better rest up for now. If you need anything, I'll be downstairs with my family."

The Stranger watched as Alvor walked down the steps, patiently sitting by the fire until morning.*

Once daytime hit, Zacharius had left Gerdur's home, heading towards the blacksmith to buy a set of iron armor with what little coin he had. The smith Alvor seemed suspicious when he sold the Stormcloak cuirass, but he merely explained that he stumbled upon it during an adventure, which was not a lie. Alvor would have refused to buy it had Zacharius not assured him that he could use the cuirass for spare materials. When he possessed a full set, he only had his sword, dagger, bow and arrows, lockpicks, and supplies left. Seven gold coins jingled in the coin purse Gerdur had made him (with his initials stitched in), and Zacharius knew he would have to find gold elsewhere. When he slipped the helmet on his face, he felt a sense of completion envelope him, as if it was part of him.

"Whiterun, here I come." He immediately embarked along the road out of Riverwood. He quietly hummed to himself as he passed by an Imperial man that had to have been in his early thirties. He hadn't noticed the man reaching for his coin purse, but when he felt it being yanked off of his belt, he leapt into action.

"Hey!" Zacharius shouted as the man attempted to run in the opposite direction. He immediately reacted by picking up a rock off of the road and throwing it at the thief. Hard.

Errick felt a sharp pain form from the back of his head and he stumbled, letting out a strange sound out from his mouth as he fell to the ground. When Zacharius saw the man fall, he immediately pulled out his dagger, walking straight towards the man. He pulled him onto his back so he could look at the thief. The man was still whining about his head.

"WHY IN OBLIVION WOULD YOU THROW A ROCK AT ME?! I'M GOING TO HAVE A LUMP THERE, AND A HEADACHE, AND PROBABLY ROCKJOINT CONSIDERING HOW WOLVES DROOL OVER THESE THINGS!"

"Would you rather have gotten an arrow up your ass? Or perhaps a dagger in your back?!"

"The arrow I could deal with." The thief replied. "The dagger just doesn't seem your style, up-front warrior. But the ROCK was the worst idea you could come up with."

"Shut up and give me my coin purse back."

"It's not your coin purse."

"Yes it is."

"No, it's not."

"_Yes, _it is."

"_No, _it's not."

"_Yes, _it is!"

"No, it's not." The thief said with a musical tune.

"It has my initials sewn into it."

Errick looked at the coin purse and saw the initials Z.M. in it. "No way! You have the same initials as me?!"

Zacharius grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, bringing his dagger closer to the thief's face.

"Okay." Errick backed off. "Not in the mood to have seven septims taken from you. I get it. Take your stupid coin purse back. I don't need an angry Nord breathing down my neck."

Zacharius took his coin purse back from the thief and dropped the man back on the ground. He tied it back onto his belt and began to walk back towards Whiterun. Errick picked himself back up and decided to follow the man just to break conversation. He could perhaps convince the man to be his bodyguard with the use of his special serum from his gloves. Just a handshake and the Nord would be his best friend.

"So, what brings you to this part of the country?" Errick asked.

"I'm bringing a message to Whiterun for Riverwood."

"Oh, so you're a courier?"

"It's not really your business, thief."

"Oh, but you must know who you're talking to. I am Errick Entius, master thief and bastard son of Master Hod Entius. I once stole from the Emperor Titus Mede II on his birthday. His cake also exploded with such a beautiful sound, decorating his guests with bits of vanilla cake and frosting! It was the best distraction I ever used to escape with my goods. In fact, consider yourself lucky that you hold the honor of being the first person to protect his purse from me."

"Yes," Zacharius became lost in thought for a second. "lucky. You know, my grandfather was a moth priest who saw from the elder scroll I'd run into a ruggedly-handsome Imperial with a lot of luck and a natural talent for thievery."

"Look, if this is the pick-up line you use on every guy, then I'm just going to say I love women, but the compliment is flattering."

"I'm not hitting on you. I'm only saying my grandfather saw I'd run into an Imperial thief that would join the mythical Thieves Guild, make a lot of gold, and help me stop a bunch of dragons from destroying the world."

Errick smirked. "Yes to the first part, the second part sounds intriguing despite the fact they're too 'mainstream' for me, yes to the third part, but fighting dragons isn't my thing."

"But don't dragons usually guard treasure?"

Errick squinted hard, shaking his head. "I'll tell you what, you can continue believing your crazy coot of a grandpa while I head off and find the Thieves Guild to make myself rich. If our paths cross again, we'll get a pint, but I assure you I won't go dragon-hunting with anyone."

Zacharius smirked as he saw the man depart, quickly glancing back at him before running away like crazy.

_"So you're saying a man that tried to rob you on the road was one of your traveling companions and a member of the Thieves Guild?" Ronan asked._

_"Yes, and he eventually became Guildmaster among other things. I don't automatically agree with what the Guild does, but not everybody in the guild is evil. They like stealing, but that's about it."_

_"And what about the Breton?" Torygg asked. "Was she really the Harbringer of the Companions."_

_"Yes, however I want you to understand that there is something about the Companions that isn't really meant to be known. So when we get to those details, you better swear you will not say a word to anyone about it."_

_"Okay. Tell us about her."_

_"Akira was a great warrior that held a personal secret. A traumatizing event that led her to pursuing fighting techniques. What had happened to her, I will not say yet. I didn't know myself until much later. I only remember her first charging with an axe in her hands."_

Zacharius had just reached the farms bordering the city of Whiterun when he heard battle cries from the lips of warriors. Looking at the farms themselves, he saw a group of warriors fighting against a giant. Zacharius had never seen a giant before, but the books didn't do them justice. A man with a greatsword swung at it while a woman with a bow shot at it with plenty of arrows.

Suddenly, a third woman came running out with a large axe, swinging it straight at the giant's leg. The giant collapsed, and the woman let the pointed end stab it's head. Another arrow flew into its head as a likely precaution.

"Nice swing, Breton." The woman with the bow spoke, shaking the hand of the Breton woman who had appeared.

"Thanks." She responded. "I saw you fighting the giant and wanted to help the famed Companions."

"So you've heard about us."

"It's the reason I travelled to Skyrim from High Rock. You're respected and revered warriors that sit in the halls of Jorrvaskr. I was hoping to join."

"Sadly, it is not my place to decide that. But if we find you in our halls, Kodlak White-Mane may let you undergo initiation. Until our paths cross again." The woman left with the man, who had lingered a little bit longer to look at the woman who had taken down the giant. He had a sort of caring, child-like look to him, and the blush from the woman's cheeks noted that she admired the attention from him.

Zacharius rubbed his chin. _A_ _Breton with a fire in her soul. _The exact words from his grandfather's journal. And Whiterun was literally right in front of him. Perhaps he could convince her to join up if she was the one his grandfather mentioned. When he saw she had started walking towards the city, he caught up to her.

"That was an amazing kill." He spoke, grabbing her attention.

"Thanks." She acknowledged. "I studied their weak spots so I know where to hit to take them down. My name's Akira. Yours?"

"Zacharius Morrigan."

"You coming to join the Companions, too? You seemed dressed and armed for the part."

"No, actually. I'm heading to the Jarl to deliver a message."

"So you're an armed courier? Your employers must be paranoid if you're packing all of that equipment."

"I'm more of an adventurer at heart. But the rumors of dragons returning are true. The people of Riverwood are asking for reinforcements. I happened to be passing by, so I took it upon myself to aid them."

"And how do you know the dragon rumors are true?"

"I looked one into its very eyes. It destroyed the town of Helgen. No doubt the place is now infested by bandits."

"I strangely believe you."

The two approached the city gate as a guard approached them, stopping them in their tracks.

"Halt. The city's closed with the dragons about. Official business only."

Zacharius stepped up to him, holding a calm tone to avoid angering the guard. "My friend and I have information about the dragon attack at Helgen, as well as a request from Riverwood to send troops to protect the town."

"Riverwood's in danger, too?" The guard seemed to listen. "You better go in, then. Dragonsreach is at the top of the hill. Make haste, and respect our laws."

"I assure you, my friend and I will not be trouble to the city." Zacharius and Akira entered the city, and it was only when the doors shut that the woman spoke again.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. You need to join the Companions because fate decrees it."

"I like to think it was my choice to join rather than fate."

"Sometimes, they can mean the same thing." Zacharius stopped as a Dunmer approached them. The red finery and sharp grin the elf possessed revealed who he was. "Tarius?"

"Zacharius!" The Dunmer known as Tarius exclaimed as he walked up, shaking the Nord's hand with a strong grip that matched the hand he was shaking. "I expected you yesterday."

"Complications arose, brother. Nothing I couldn't handle."

"Strange to hear a Nord calling a Dunmer brother." Akira noted.

"That's because the other Nords you met were racist. Not Zacharius. The only elves he mistrusts are the Thalmor." Tarius pulled a book out from his satchel. "I got it into Skyrim without the Thalmor catching me. However, I suspect they might know about our affiliations. I recommend you watch carefully. Keep friends close, but keep enemies closer, brother."

"Same to you, Tarius."

"One last thing before I go. I couldn't help but look at your journal, and I think I might know of the Dunmer it speaks of. Whatever you do, don't enrage him. He is attuned to violence and his eyes scan for signs of weakness, treachery, and deceit. Do not lie to him because he will know, and he only ran to Skyrim because he holds a common enemy to us. Remain vigilant, because the Darth is the one that put fear into Cyrrodil's heart after the Oblivion Crisis that nearly destroyed Tamriel."

"Is he truly one to be feared?"

"He is. His ancestral power is feared even among Dunmer in Morrowind."

"I'll keep that in mind for the day he is needed."

"Take care, friend. May your ancestors smile upon you." Tarius began to walk away.

"Same to you."

Akira stepped up to Zacharius. "So, you gonna tell me what that was all about?"

"We were discussing my grandfather's journal. He was a moth priest that was recently murdered. My friend smuggled this into Skyrim so I could begin searching."

"For what?"

"Actually, it's for who." Zacharius held the journal out to Akira. "Go ahead. Read through it."

Akira took the open book and read what was written. Her eyebrow was raised at the 'Breton with a fire' part, making her think that he was referring to her.

"So your grandfather wants to find a bunch of random people to, what, slay an immortal dragon?"

"Pretty much. I plan on finding out what I can about these dragons and then assemble a team of talented people to help me."

"And one of these people has the dragonblood?"

"Yes. I'm just not sure who it is."

"Well I assure you, while I have a fire in my soul, I do not possess dragonblood. And I'm not even sure if the Breton your grandfather mentioned is even me."

"What if it is?"

"If it is, I'll join you later. I want to join with the Companions and I can't have anything distract me from that goal right now."

Zacharius bowed, taking back the journal. "I understand. If you are really the Breton mentioned in the book, I will come back after you help out with the Companions. If not, then you can live the rest of your days the way you wish to live."

"Very well. It's been a pleasure to meet you, Zacharius Morrigan."

"And it was a pleasure to meet you, Akira."

_"So Akira listened to you when Errick did not?"_

_"Yes, actually. She and I first did not believe we were to hold a major role in my grandfather's prophecy, but destiny always has a way of sneaking up behind you. Eventually, we became great friends, but I decided not to join the Companions for reasons that were my own."_

_"And this Darth guy Tarius was afraid of?" Ronan asked. "Was he really as bad as he proclaimed?"_

_"His soul was truly black, but that was to be suspected of an old assassin. You see, when I was going up to Dragonsreach, he was finding himself walking the dark path again in Windhelm, taking a contract for a young boy that wanted a cruel old lady dead. The thing about Scarlai is that he could be a good man if he chooses, but there's something about murder that consumes his thoughts. He enjoys it."_

_"And you'd let a murderer help you?!"_

_"Keeping my enemy closer was the best decision I could make. Besides, we had a common enemy; he and I. A mer that had murdered someone he loved just like I lost my grandfather. It was him that put that elf to the sword, and ended the life of the great Thalmor Inquisitor."_

_"Who's that?"_

_"The brother of another travelling companion of mine. The Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold, Stryger Myron, had apparently lost his older brother on a raid of their town in Summerset Isle, but we later discovered the Inquisitor's identity before Scarlai was dispatched to kill him. He was actually heading to the College around the same time as we headed to our own destinies. Say whatever you will about magic or assassins. The men who held those professions are still heroes to me and my legends. We all played our part in shaping destiny, whether or not our ways were good or evil."_

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So for those who read my other story, Mass Effect: Resolution, it should be no surprise that The Stranger made an appearance in Skyrim. Before anyone complains, allow me to explain. The Stranger is a multi-dimensional character, meaning he can travel to many alternate realities at incredible speeds. The reason he himself is in Skyrim is actually because he came here before he even visited Resolution and made a company based off of the code name of the woman he loved (for more details, read the other story). His role in Skyrim is meant to be more about watching over the Dragonborn and his companions for the duration of the main quest. However, he may not appear in the planned sequels that follow the DLCs.

Next chapter will be about Zacharius's visit to Dragonsreach, and the introduction of Scarlai and Stryger. Reviews are welcome and PMs with questions are appreciated.


	4. Chapter 3: The Assassin and the Mage

Chapter 3: The Assassin and the Mage

_"So when you reached Dragonsreach, you met with Jarl Balgruuf the Greater. What was he like?"_

_"He was a well-respected man who put his land and people before the war. You could trust him with your life if you were a citizen in his lands. He sort of supported both ideals from those that fought the war, but he likely didn't like anyone on either side. I considered him an ally, since I did not wish to join the war on either side at the time."_

_"Some say that he helped you capture a dragon in the keep like Olaf One-Eye in the days of old."_

_"He did, but we need to start at the beginning before jumping into the end. We don't to spoil a good story now, do we?"_

As the doors to Dragonsreach opened, Zacharius could feel a tinge of excitement in his stomach. He had never visited a Jarl's throne room before. In the Imperial City, there had been a Council chamber where the elected officials gathered for their meetings, but it didn't feel the same due to the corruption of certain officials. Most of them were Altmer, but he had no proof about them being connected to the Thalmor. He never got to visit the Counts and Countesses in Cyrrodil, either. Many of them still descended from those that aided the Champion of Cyrrodil stop the Oblivion Crisis two-hundred years ago.

_I wonder if my family actually was related to the Champion. _Zacharius wondered. It was said that Zacharius's father had an ancestor who had been an Imperial. The legend spoke of an Imperial man by the name of Caleb Secus that escaped prison with the Amulet of Kings, found the Septim heir, closed multitudes of Oblivion gates single-handedly, and defeated Mankar Cameron in his Paradise to reclaim the amulet again. Whether or not Caleb was his ancestor, he still revered the man as much as he did Talos. Caleb had overcome many obstacles and comfronted many trials to place a mark on his legend. Zacharius hoped to leave a similar imprint on the course of history.

He climbed up the steps to see the Jarl arguing with his steward about important matters revolved around politics.

"What would you have me do? Nothing?!" The Jarl barked at his steward.

"My Lord, I do not think we should make hasty decisions! I-"

"Who's this, then?" Jarl Blugruuf interrupted, looking at the young man in iron armor approaching his throne.

Irileth, the Jarl's housecarl, pulled out a sword of steel and approached Zacharius. "What's the meaning of this interruption? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors."

Zacharius pushed the tip of the sword away from his face. "I have information regarding the dragon attack at Helgen, along with a request from Riverwood to send troops to protect the town."

"Well, that explains why the guards let you in. You better talk to the Jarl personally. I expect he wants to hear this."

Zacharius walked up to the Jarl as Irileth put her sword away and stood aside. The Jarl looked at Zacharius with intent eyes.

"So, you were at Helgen? You saw this dragon with your own eyes?"

"Yes. My view of it wasn't the best seat in the house, but it was enough to see it completely. It destroyed Helgen when Ulfric Stormcloak and his men were prepared to be executed. The dragon had flown somewhere in this direction the last I had seen it."

"By Ysmir, the reports were right! I should've known Ulfric would get mixed up in this. And what do you mean when you say your view of the dragon wasn't the best seat in the house, exactly?"

"Let's just say the Imperials seem to hold a few soldiers that think any Nord serves Ulfric Stormcloak and we'll leave it at that."

"So you were a criminal?"

"Only in their eyes. I was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. The only criminal things I've ever done are believing in something that was banned and being a troublemaker when I was a boy."

Balgruuf hummed, turning back towards his steward. "What do you say now, Proventius? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls against a dragon?!"

"My Lord," Irileth spoke. "we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger. If a dragon is on the loose-"

"The Jarl of Falkreath will take that as a provocation!" Proventius interrupted. "He'll assume we plan on joining Ulfric's side and attack him. We shouldn't-"

"Enough!" Balgruuf yelled. "I will not stand by idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! Irileth, send a detatchment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes, my Jarl." Irileth bowed and headed out of the keep.

"If you'll excuse me." Proventius spoke, annoyed his council was ignored. "I'll return to my duties."

"That would be best." Jarl Balgruuf nodded as Proventius walked away. Balgruff then faced Zacharius. "You've done Whiterun a service. You sought me out on your own initiative, and I won't forget it. There is another matter your particular talents might be of use for."

"Whatever you require, I am at your disposal." Zacharius bowed.

"Come. Let us speak with Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter about these dragons and... rumors of dragons." Balgruuf stood up and led Zacharius to a room next to the Jarl's courtroom. A Nord in blue mage robes was mixing ingredients at an alchemy table. Zacharius himself knew some alchemy tricks, but sometimes it was just tiresome carrying all of the successful and not-so-successful potions and poisons around the Imperial City, so he sold most of them to the alchemists in the market district.

"So this is the court wizard." Zacharius commented. "Nice choice in clothing."

"Farengar, I found someone who can help your dragon project. Go ahead and fill him in on the details."

Farengar turned around and faced the two men. "So the Jarl thinks that you can help me with my research. Oh, yes. He must be referring to my research into the dragons. Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me."

"You want me to fetch something? What's the catch?"

"Well, when I say fetch, I mean delve into an ancient crypt to look for an ancient stone tablet which may or may not be there."

Zacharius grumbled. "Okay. What am I fetching and where is it at?"

"Straight to the point, eh? Leave the more tedious details to your betters, no? The artifact you are meant to find is a Dragonstone, said to contain a map of dragon burial sites. It's at a crypt called Bleak Falls Barrow, near a miserable town a few miles south from here. I'm sure the locals can point you in the right direction."

"I know where to go." Zacharius nodded before looking at the enchanting table. "So this an enchanting table?"

"Oh yes. I didn't realize you had a hand in magic."

"I mostly dabbled in restoration and a bit of destruction magic. I never had a chance to check out the enchanting tables in Cyrrodil before I left. How do I use it?"

"Simply place an enchanted object on the table to learn its properties. The item is destroyed in the process. To create an enchanted item, simply use an unenchanted item and a filled soul gem to enchant with whatever effect you want the item to have."

Zacharius took the mage robes in his bag out. He couldn't sell it to Alvor and he didn't think about visiting the general goods store having nothing else on him, so he held onto it. He placed the robes on the table and watched as the item disintegrated. He did the same to the hood.

"Very good. Now let me show you how to enchant items." Farengar took a silver ring and a small soul gem that glittered with the soul of an animal off of his desk. "Take these items and use them to enchant with one of those effects. Choose wisely, however. This is my only freebie I'm offering."

Zacharius took the items and brought them over the table. Using the enchanter he selected the magicka regeneration enchantment and used the soul gem to bind the enchantment to the ring. It glowed blue and pulsed with the enchantment.

"Very good. Not bad for a first time enchanter. Any weapons that are enchanted need to be refilled with soul gems, but armor and clothing enchantments last forever. Keep the ring as a reminder of the basics and how they can get you far."

"Thank you. It's a nice ring." _But it's a rookie's ring, honestly._ Zacharius slipped the ring onto his gloved finger.

"If you need materials for any more enchanting or want to learn any new spells, I have books and soul gems available for sale."

"I'm a bit light on coin right now, but perhaps later. Thank you." Zacharius exited the keep and headed for Riverwood again, not expecting what would happen at Bleak Falls Barrow.

At the time of Zacharius's departure, a Dunmer in Windhelm was walking away from the local market with his groceries in hand. He needed a dinner that was fulfilling and his last job catching bear pelts for the smith went well enough that he had been rewarded with enough coin to feed himself fresh food for a month. The man was still trying to convince him to join Ulfric Stormcloak and his army to make a name for his people, but he just couldn't join at the moment. He needed proof that Ulfric wouldn't shoot him in the back just for being a dark elf.

Of course, no one of this era knew who he was anymore.

Scarlai had kept his past from the other dark elves as much as he could, seeing as his past didn't matter anymore. Not after his ten-year expedition to Akavir and the Thalmor slaughtering the secret order he had joined after fulfilling Azura's prophecy. Sure, he had been a hero to the Dunmer more than two-hundred years ago, but that was long before he went into hiding. That event had changed him beyond reason, and it revealed a magic even older than the forming of Nirn.

And that magic was weighing heavily on him.

He could hear the hearts of every person in Windhelm beating; their blood calling to him in enchanting rhythms, begging to be used to crush every person that would stand in his way. It had been nearly a hundred and fifty years since he had last used his powers, and he thought he could hold out. But the urge to just see blood was growing much stronger now; perhaps from the war the Nords are fighting. He needed to distract himself from their beating hearts.

"I think she's a little spy." Scarlai caught a Nord saying. He turned his attention to see a Dunmer woman he recognized as Suvaris Atheron being accused by that racist Nord Rolff Stone-Fist. His friend nodded in agreement.

"That's preposterous!" Suvaris argued. "We're not spies and we're not taking part in your war because it's not our fight."

"Maybe I'll pay a little visit tonight, spy. We have ways of making you talk."

Scarlai was so disgusted by the ignorant bastard he grabbed a small pebble from the ground and chucked it at his face, grabbing the man's attention.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to respect women, Stone-Fist?"

"That was a mistake, gray-face!" Rolff yelled, turning red in anger.

"Yeah, well I'm ready to see blood, too. However, I think we can easily solve this problem in a legitimate and may I say 'Nord-like' custom." Scarlai reached into his bag and pulled out his coin purse. "One hundred septim brawl. Winner gets the hundred from their opponent, but let's up the scales. You win, I'll pay you a hundred a month to keep you out of the gray quarter. I win, you stay out of it permanently."

Rolff looked at his friend, who seemed to nod his approval. "All right, gray-face. One hundred septims. You better meet those monthly payments after this is done." Rolff handed his purse of one hundred septims to his friend and raised his fists.

Scarlai tossed his purse to the other man before raising his fists. "And you better keep your word when this is over, milk-drinker."

"You've got a death wish, elf?" He swung a fist at the Dunmer, who simply blocked the weak punch.

"I've been wishing I was dead for a hundred and fifty years. No challenger has been good enough, however, to grant the end I seek." Scarlai threw his fist and struck the Nord hard in the jaw. His opponent became enraged and threw stronger punches at him, spurring on the old warrior. "Even for a brawl, you're finally showing potential. But with age comes experience."

Rolff hit Scarlai in the forehead, but the old warrior simply struck harder with every swing. He had lived for two-hundred and thirty-three years and had loads of hand-to-hand experience just punching risen skeletons (some he even raised himself). Eventually, the young Nord was knocked to the ground and beaten. Scarlai walked up to the other Nord and took the coin purses back.

"That wasn't a fair swing!" Rolff complained as he rose back up.

"And I figured a Nord would've learned the first rule about a fight. No brawl, no duel, no battle or war is ever fought fairly. Be thankful, however, that an unfair swing is all you got because I've killed people with my bare fists before. You're not worth killing, Stone-Fist." He slipped the coin purses into his bag and began to walk away, keeping his eyes on Rolff a moment longer. "Stay out of the Gray Quarter."

"You better watch your back, gray-face!" Rolff threatened.

"Greater men and mer have said that to me. All of them are dead." Scarlai headed back to the Gray Quarter with a smile on his face, but stopped when he saw another familiar Dunmer talking to a human child. Quickly pulling on the red fabric of his shirt to try and air out some of his sweat with the cold air, he walked over to see what they were talking about.

"Is it true what they're saying?" Grimvar Cruel-Sea asked. "Is Aventus Aretino really trying to summon the Dark Brotherhood?"

"Grimvar... Always with the nonsense." Idesa Sadri commented. "No, no, of course not. Those are just tales."

"Fine. Then I'll invite him out to play. He lives right there. I'll go ahead and knock on his door."

"No, child! Wait! That child, that house... They are cursed!"

"Ha! So it is true! Aventus Aretino is trying to have someone killed!"

"All right, child. I won't deny it. But Aventus Aretino walks a dark path that can lead only to ruin. Now enough. We will not speak of this any longer. I am the only friend you need."

Scarlai watched as Idesa and Grimvar walked past him, and he eyed the Aretino residence. Looking around to see if any guards were watching, he walked up to the house, slipped a lockpick out of his leather bracer, and picked the lock on the door. He slipped in quick as the wind and quiet as the grave.

"Die, Grelod! Die!" He heard a child yell as he closed the door. "Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother, send your child unto me. For the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear."

_So the rumors are true about this kid. _Scarlai thought. He had been sure, however, that the Dark Brotherhood had died out after their nest had been rooted out in Cheydinhal by the Penitus Oculatus years ago. _Perhaps I can use this to my advantage._

Scarlai still craved blood. Killing for a little boy didn't sound as bad as killing the boy himself.

He quietly approached behind him and waited for the child to take notice. When Aventus saw the large shadow creep over him, he turned and faced the man; his facial expression not one of fear but of excitement.

"You've come at last! I knew you would!"

Scarlai looked at the ground and saw the skeleton, human flesh, and candles all around. The child still held the dagger in his hand. If that kid had drawn his blood from even the tiniest of cuts, then it would've been enough for Scarlai to destroy the boy. But Scarlai pushed those thoughts aside for a moment. "Is everything all right, young blood?"

"It worked! I knew you would come! I just knew it! I did the Black Sacrament, over and over. With the body and the... the things. And now you're here! An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood!"

"Right..." Scarlai played along. "The Dark Brotherhood."

"Exactly! I prayed, and then you came, and now you'll accept my contract!"

"What is this contract that you want done?"

"My mother, she... she died. I... I'm all alone now. So they sent me to that stupid orphanage in Riften, Honorhall! The headmistress is an evil, cruel woman. They call her Grelod the Kind, but she isn't kind at all! She's terrible to all of us! So I came home and performed the Black Sacrament, and now you're here, and you can kill Grelod the Kind!"

Scarlai couldn't help but smile a little darkly. He always had some weird obsession with protecting children since he went into hiding a hundred and fifty years ago. "Grelod's crimes should not go unpunished, for sure. I will return when the deed is done. I hope you have some form of compensation for when this is finished."

"Don't worry, assassin! I have something that could fetch you a fair price. An heirloom of my family's that was worth quite a bit. If you don't want it, you could sell it for a nice profit. I'll wait for your return here! I'm so excited that Grelod's going to get what she deserves!"

Scarlai left for his home immediately after that, putting his groceries away and scavenging his leather hunting armor from his chest of belongings. As he pulled his red shirt off, he looked at himself in the mirror, seeing the scars that covered his chest and arms. Some came from his time fighting in Morrowind and others from his initiation into the Blood Dragons. The one scar he reached for on his chest was the sword that nearly killed him had it not missed his heart. It was the only true way to kill a mage of his kind.

The painful memories of the Thalmor's eradication of the order came back to him. He was the last of his kind, strengthened by the blood of the fallen and first called by the blood of a God. It was truly a dreadful existence to lose everything and still walk upon Nirn, but it was an experience Scarlai could live with.

When he finished slipping on his armor, he went to the loose floorboards and pulled out his pride and joy. A white cloth wrapped around two medium-sized objects was placed on the ground and untied to reveal two ebony swords. Scarlai had them updated to their current state and they were the only objects he had not sold when he left Morrowind. He took one of them and pulled it out of its sheath, admiring the sleek, black metal that had not been affected by time ever since he hid them from the guard. They might be suspicious if they saw him walk out with those blades on his belt, but he didn't much care about that anymore.

When he was all set, he grabbed his bow and arrows in case the guards felt like asking if he was going hunting and departed for the carriage to Riften to find Grelod the Kind and put her out of her misery.

At the same time as these events, an Altmer wearing mage robes had reached Winterhold. Stryger Myron was one-hundred and ninety-eight years old and still attempting to learn everything he could about magic. He was still considered young by high-elf standards, so it was understandable as to why he sought to master more of the arcane arts. Of course, he also practiced swordplay and archery to use in a duel or a hunt, but even then they had been conjuration spells that bound weapons from the planes of Oblivion in his hands.

His real gift had been restoration.

It was perhaps the one class he truly excelled at. He could heal even the most critical wounds on another person as well as he could for himself. It was a great gift he had been born with, but there was more to it than he would ever care to admit. It was the real reason why he still studied magic. It was not so he could trap souls into gems or revive the dead or even destroy an entire kingdom. It was so he could understand his gift more.

He stopped walking through the ruined hold when he reached the bridge to the entrance to the college.

Stryger knew that many of the locals that still lived in the hold had blamed the college for the destruction of the entire city, but he believed it was a different matter. The city might not have sunk into the sea but rather teleported. Where the city is now he doesn't know, but he planned on studying that once he obtained a ring of warmth and a necklace of waterbreathing.

"Okay, Stryger." He spoke to himself. "Time to meet with more intelligent mages to learn more about yourself."

Another elf was guarding the entrance, but Stryger was prepared to show he was not a threat. When the woman gave him the strange look, she was prepared to give him the lecture of how the college protects itself from those who threaten it, but Stryger raised his hand in a friendly manner.

"Hello. My name is Stryger Myron. I am looking for admission into the college to unravel the mysteries of Aetherius, as well as master my particular talents in magic."

The woman dropped her guard for a second before changing her tone. "Unraveling the mysteries of Aetherius sounds like a noble goal. Many believe it to be the plane where all magic resides. The College could offer that to you, but what can you offer to the College? I propose a test of your talents."

"Test away. I am very skilled in certain elements of magic."

"Many mages know how to heal themselves, but those even more skilled know how to heal others. I would like for you to cast a healing hands spell on me."

"Simple enough." Stryger brought the restorative energies around his hands, sending streams of magic upon the elf woman who protected the college.

"Well done. That was perhaps one of the most rejuvenating spells I have ever felt. You are free to enter the College. Follow me." The woman led Stryger along the bridge, stopping at certain places to light wells that emmitted a large stream of blue light. Stryger sometimes looked over the sides of the bridge that bent this way and that, and every time he had that fear of falling. He didn't know enough magic to make himself fly yet.

When they reached the entrance he saw a Breton woman arguing with who could only be a Thalmor executive. Stryger himself had a burning hatred for the Thalmor for destroying his village when he was eighteen years old. Summerset Isle was the first to feel the Thalmor's wrath as they either conquered or integrated the ruling cities for their favor, and Stryger's whole family was lost to their ambitions as they set the village ablaze. Taking what belongings and coin he had left over, he set out to master the arcane arts as well as his gift, hoping to avoid the Thalmor at every step.

Until today.

The Thalmor representative seemed to have lost the argument and entered the College, no doubt pissed off that not everyone obeys him just because he commands it. Stryger couldn't help but smile at that fact. It's about time the Thalmor realize that they aren't always in charge.

The woman that had argued with him approached Stryger now. She appeared to be a stern woman just from looking at her, but she didn't seem to hate Stryger just from her facial expression.

"I am Mirabelle Ervine, Master Wizard at the College of Winterhold. I see you are another potential student, yes? Welcome to the College of Winterhold."

"It's an honor to be among those of the college." Stryger nodded, smiling. "I've heard a lot about this place and I thought it might help me expand my knowledge and continue training in my talents to magic."

"Allow me to give you a tour of the College, as well as show you to where you'll be staying while you are here. Afterwards, you may join the other students in the main hall. I am sure Tolfdir is putting them through their first lesson."

Stryger let Mirabelle lead the way, barely holding in his excitement over how much of an honor it was to be at the College of Winterhold.

And perhaps he can finally understand his gift.

_"You say that both the Arch-Mage and the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood were part of your team and that they had special magic. Why is it you haven't mentioned what it is they could do?"_

_"Because, Torygg, I want to save that for the moments they had recorded it in their journal. There were witnesses towards their particular talents when they had used it. All I will say is that Stryger had a wonderful gift, and Scarlai's is much darker."_

_"Speaking of Scarlai," Ronan added. "when you brought him up from his journal, he stated something about his past. What did he do before his supposed expedition to Akavir?"_

_"Again, that will be for later. Now, at the time I had departed for Bleak Falls Barrow, Akira and Stryger were going through their little initiations into their respected groups. But as all five of us were drawn closer to the fabrics of destiny, a sinister individual was preparing to track me down. History today knows him as the Thalmor Inquisitor."_

*Inside an interrogation cell within the Imperial City, Jennette Morrigan sat at a wooden table waiting for a member of the Thalmor to walk through the door and begin asking the same questions. Already four other members had tried to prod her mind for answers, and despite being close to fifty, she was still a strong Nord woman and would not give in to the demands of the Thalmor. The last one had threatened to torture her husband to get answers out of her, but Willhem was dug in to the Imperial Legion enough to hold diplomatic immunity.

The door opened and a hooded Altmer entered. He looked a bit younger than the rest of the elves that had questioned her, but just as sinister. His look was stern and strands of his blonde hair could be seen slipping out from the front of the hood. His eyes were cold and calculating as they scanned her.

"Obviously from that look, you know that your men have failed to move me." Jennette spoke with confidence.

"My employers are desperate to find your son and the secrets he stole from the Empire."

"You mean the prophecy you killed my father for, Inquisitor?"

The Inquisitor merely stopped moving before he turned around and faced her with no emotion.

"The prophecy my son has taken was always meant for my family. It was why the Elder Scrolls showed it to my father. The moth priests of old knew it would happen themselves, but they did not have the map that my son now carries with him. An ancient evil has come back to exact vengeance. Alduin, the World-Eater."

"Tell me about Alduin."

Jennette looked at him quietly with a serious look on her face. "He is the child of Akotash that waged war against my people before the First Era. He was defeated atop the Throat of the World, but he returns now as Skyrim wages war. And you would let that war continue as he begins to bring the world to its end."

"We can defeat anything that would dare destroy the Empire. We crushed the Empire before, and we can end these dragons as well."

"You can't stop Alduin without the Dragonborn."

"The Dragonborn is a legend. If they existed, they ended with the Septim bloodline two-hundred years ago, where the supposed Champion of Cyrrodil aided in stopping Mehrunes Dagon from conquering the world."

"You obviously try to slander history for your own benefit. You know that Caleb Secus stopped the Oblivion Crisis and saved Tamriel."

"The individuals in High Rock and Summerset Isle did not know. And when they began to worship us for our 'accomplishments' in saving their homes, we did what was necessary to ensure stability within the Empire."

Jennette raised an eyebrow. "So the rumors are true, then? You're a puppet for the Thalmor?"

"I am no more a puppet than Talos being a god."

"Again look to Caleb Secus as he used the power of the Ninth Divine to battle Umaril the Unfeathered in his plane of Oblivion."

"There is no proof towards that inclaimation."

"Then go ask your brother elves that served him when he battled Umaril."

The Inquisitor was growing impatient, but he let go of the anger building up inside him. Nords would never give up their worship of Talos, and arguing about it was only going to make him do something drastic. Instead, he went back to the subject he was meant to be talking about.

"Tell me about the prophecy, then. How many individuals are mentioned? Five, maybe?"

Jennette was caught off guard. "What are you after? The rest of the Thalmor merely asked about where my son is, but you... You're something else."

"Your father talked in his sleep about the five individuals in his notes. No doubt you already know how I know, but you were not as broken up over your father's death than most other people. In fact, the day after he died your son was seen at your estate and left immediately the next day. You held the secrets your father kept from the Emperor and gave them to your son. His worshipping of Talos was only over-looked because of you and your husband's status in the Legion and the Court, but witholding vital information from the Empire and having your son disappear with that information is enough to place you and your husband in prison if not a public execution."

"The prophecy has always been connected to this family. It is why Zacharius left Cyrrodil for his home land, Skyrim. And you will not be able to stop him when he unites the other four behind him."

"This will be the last time I ask. Tell me where your son is and what the prophecy says. If you do, you and your husband will be spared, along with your other two children. Only your eldest will be responsible if he returns to Cyrrodil."

"My son is not coming back to Cyrrodil." Jennette shook her head. "You've ruined this place he once called home. He has headed to Skyrim to find his destiny. He believes he is to unite the five, but he does not realize he is the Nord described in the prophecy. He will lead a group with a Breton that holds a fire in her soul, an Imperial with a lot of luck, an Altmer with a gift, and a Dunmer with a dark secret that saved this world before you tainted his heart with hatred and drove him into exile. Do not underestimate them, Inquisitor. But most of all, do not underestimate my son."

The Inquisitor merely nodded before he left, sending two guards in to escort Jennette Morrigan out of the building.*

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry it took a bit longer to write this chapter. Complications arose during the writing process, but I got it out. So Happy New Year, everyone! Let's hope 2014 gives me plenty of time to write for my stories. Now before you ask questions, Caleb Secus is a placeholder for the Champion of Cyrrodil from TESIV: Oblivion (my first Elder Scrolls game I played) that I figured would work for the story. As for Scarlai's hidden past, all I will say is it is connected to the third game, Morrowind, so if you played that game (unlike myself) you already must know who he is. His strange power will be revealed somewhere within the next few chapters as he joins the Dark Brotherhood.

Next time will mainly focus on Stryger's and Akira's first meetings with the members of the respected groups they wish to join. Any questions or comments can be left in the reviews and PMs.


	5. Chapter 4: First Lessons

Chapter 4: First Lessons

Stryger looked around the dimly lit room of the College's main hall, admiring all of the glowing blue streams of magic that gave this room life. He could see the other three students all lined up opposite of an old man who was no doubt Tolfdir. Mirabelle had mentioned him during the tour, and Stryger could tell from his age that he was very wise. Wishing to join his fellow students he walked up and stood next to a young Nord student.

Tolfdir saw the robed elf and stopped his speech. "Ah, I see a new student has arrived."

"My apologies for being late. I only just arrived at the college a few minutes ago. I hope I haven't missed much."

"Oh, not at all, boy. We had just started." Tolfdir faced the whole group. "As I was saying, the first lesson that every mage should learn is that magic in itself is powerful and dangerous. Precaution and safety should always be taken before practicing magic. Otherwise a lot of people can get hurt."

"But we already know about safety." A female voice spoke. Stryger looked over the Nord's shoulder to see a young Dunmer woman had spoken. She wore a hood like he did, but he could see plenty of her facial features from the blue light that surrounded the room. Gods, she was beautiful. Stryger had heard the other students join along and talk about how they already wanted to begin practicing spells, but Stryger wasn't paying much attention.

"You've been awfully quiet, newcomer." Tolfdir spoke towards Stryger, catching his attention. "Do you agree with your fellow pupils, or do you perhaps have a different opinion?"

Stryger rubbed his chin. "I agree, I am as eager to learn as they are. But I've had enough experience outside the college to know that safety should always be considered beforehand."

"Well, I'm glad to see such a bright student knows how to follow a teacher's example."

"Come on." A khajiit complained. "We already know how to prepare for using magical talents. Let's try something."

"Very well. I guess we could try to combine my lesson of safety with something practical. I guess we'll take some time to discuss wards. Wards are very useful barriers of magic that can be the line between life and death. Why don't you help me with this experiment, Altmer."

"Very well." Stryger stood on the large emblem on the floor. "My name's Stryger, by the way."

"Okay, Stryger. Do you know any ward spells?"

"I've been practicing the steadfast ward recently. I used it successfully to stop a bunch of necromancers a few miles away from Winterhold."

"Really?" Tolfdir motioned for his students to step back. "Just in case of an accident, students, I want you to stand behind me. Stryger, go ahead and throw up the ward."

Stryger allowed his left hand to glow white and his right hand to pulse a fireball spell. He didn't plan on fighting back, but he always was prepared in case of emergencies. When the other students got behind Tolfdir, Stryger got another good look at the dark elf woman. He kept it brief, though, and he cast the ward. Tolfdir tossed a fireball at his ward, and they smiled as the magic dispersed along the barrier.

"Excellent." Tolfdir smiled. "I hope that served as an example to you pupils about the dangers of magic. I think now may be a good time to study some of the history of magic. The College is digging up the ruins of an ancient Nord city known as Saarthal a few miles nearby. Meet me there in a few hours, and we'll get started.

The students dispersed as Tolfdir headed for the main doors, followed by the woman Stryger noticed. Wanting to make her aquaintance, Stryger began to follow. He didn't know what it was about her that attracted him, but he was hoping to at least be her friend at the college.

Stryger ran alongside her as she exited, and she caught notice of the tall elf that had demonstrated his magic.

"Before you go asking any questions, yes. I am the only Dunmer here, no. I'm not intimidated by the Nords, and no. I am not going to just sleep with everyone here at the college just because I'm the only student here that is a woman."

"Uh..." Stryger rubbed his neck. "I wasn't going to ask to sleep with you. I just wanted to introduce myself."

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to snap like that. J'zargo just wouldn't take no for an answer today. He asked me five times today if I wanted to know how it felt to be with a sex cat like him."

"I'll, uh, steer clear of him, then." He put out his hand. "I'm Stryger Myron."

The Dunmer woman gripped his hand and shook. "Brelyna Maryon of House Telvanni."

"A pleasure, milady. I've heard the Telvanni mages are among the most powerful in all of Tamriel."

"Indeed. I pretty much had a place made in the college for me immediately after I was born. There's a lot riding on the expectation that I will become powerful, but no one from Morrowind is here to pressure me to practice too hard. That is something I am thankful for."

"I myself have been training since I was eighteen years old. My greatest skill was restoration. I've given healing to perhaps hundreds of people across Tamriel for a hundred and eighty years. I also took the time to practice more schools of magic where I could. I'm an expert in destruction magic and I can conjure a few weapons and allies from the planes of Oblivion."

"I myself normally use destruction magic, too. I can conjure familiars and I try throwing up an oakflesh spell before being forced to fight. I try to stay in a fight for as long as possible, but I normally get knocked down quickly." She turned out of Winterhold and Stryger followed.

"Have you tried enchanting some armor or clothing to give you an edge in combat? If you wore a suit that increased your health pool, you might last longer in a fight. For me, my stamina is not that great. I normally try sprinting short distances if I need to, but mainly I stand and fight. I have a record of killing seventeen-hundred bandits either while travelling or performing bounties for some holds in exchange for knowledge from court wizards. Quite recently, I helped this Imperial jester get his wagon fixed to transfer his mother's coffin to Falkreath from Bravil."

"So you use your magic to help people?"

"As should we all. Magic is a powerful tool granted by the divines, and none of it should be used lightly. If I use my magical talents to help others, I can sleep happily."

"So you're not with the Thalmor like Ancano?"

"By the eight, no! The Thalmor are power-hungry mongrels, wanting every subject within Tamriel to bow to their command. I've already lost so much of my past because of them." Stryger pulled out a fireball spell and threw it at the wolf approaching Tolfdir.

"Sounds like it's personal." Brelyna spoke solomly, nodding her head in case he didn't feel like discussing it any further.

Tolfdir turned around and faced them along the snowy path. "Nice to see you two can get to know each other while keeping an eye out for trouble. It's always nice to see bright students that pay attention to every detail."

Stryger laughed as the old man turned around. "I guess I have a personal vendetta against the Thalmor, but I'm not making the first move just yet. I don't really want to get into it right now, but perhaps if you want to practice a few spells later, I'll gladly talk more about my past."

"Maybe if we can keep that Thalmor conversation away from Ancaro, I'll think about it."

Stryger smiled. "Good. So how about later tonight? Maybe after this whole excavation thing."

"Sure." Brelyna smiled and continued walking in silence. Stryger didn't speak, either. He felt he said everything that needed to be said. A few minutes afterward, they arrived at Saarthal with Tolfdir and patiently waited for the other two students to catch up.

Within the halls of Jorrvaskr, Akira could feel a sense of belonging within the walls. Some of the people themselves weren't so welcoming as of yet, but she hoped that would change if she became a member of the Companions. Akira walked up to the Harbinger's room, where an old man was speaking to a younger man.

"My brother and I are with you, of course." The younger man spoke. "But I don't think the others will go along with it as easy."

"Leave that to me." The older man, who had to have been the Harbinger, assured before he faced the young woman that entered the room. "A stranger walks within our walls."

"Hello." Akira bowed. "I've come all the way from High Rock to join the Companions."

"Would you now? Here. Let me have a look at you. Yes, a certain strength of spirit."

"Master," The other man interrupted. "you're not truly thinking of accepting her, are you?"

"I am nobody's master, Vilkas. And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with fires burning in their hearts."

"Apologies, but perhaps this isn't the time. I've never even heard of this outsider."

"Sometimes the famous come to us. Sometimes men and women come to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their heart. "

"And their arm."

"Yes. How are you in battle, girl?"

"I can hold my own." Akira spoke, proud that her old master trained her well.

"That may be so. This is Vilkas. He will test your arm. Vilkas, take her out to the yard and see what she can do."

"Aye." Vilkas muttered, likely not amused at having to be the one that did this for her. Akira followed the man out into the courtyard past the rest of the Companions. The sun was out and warmed Akira's bare arms. Her chestnut brown hair blew around in the breeze, and the sound of a sword being unsheathed caught her attention.

"Kodlak told me to test your might, so that's what we're going to do. Go ahead and give me a few swings with that axe of yours. Don't worry, I can take it."

"All right." Akira pulled her battle axe off of her back, preparing it for a mighty swing. She put as much force into her blows as she could, staggering the bulky Nord three times as her axe pounded on the man's shield.

"Not bad, but next time won't be so easy. You might just make it. But for now, you're still a whelp to us, new blood. So you do as you're told." He removed his sword and sheath from his belt. "Now, take my sword to Eorlund to be sharpened. And be careful. It's probably worth more than you are."

Akira frowned at the man's remarks, but took the sword anyways. She turned around and began to head up the hill, noticing a familiar man going down the steps of Dragonsreach. Zacharius turned a bit to see Akira staring at him, and he raised his hand to wave at her. She kindly waved back to the Nord with the iron helmet. There was something about him that reminded her of her old teacher; the Nord warrior Askar the Bold that saved her life from that painful and heartbreaking night eight years ago. She lost her whole family (and more) to a group of bandits that fled when Askar came and slaughtered half of their band with a battle axe as white as the snow of his home.

She had cried for three nights after that.

When her wounds had healed, Askar took her into his band of mercenaries, training her in the ways of combat. While she wasn't much for archery she could use a bow, and her hand-to-hand combat was far better than it had been before. Her best techniques came from using a battle axe. Askar had taught her everything he could about the two-handed weapon, and she tried her hardest to be patient with him. When he taught her everything, he told her she should join the Companions in Skyrim where she could find a true family that would never fail her. At first she was sad to be asked to leave the mercenary group, but Askar stated that she had more potential with them than with him, and he promised he would visit the halls within a year's time if she chose to go there.

That was two months ago.

As Zacharius continued down the steps, Akira continued up to the Skyforge, where the old blacksmith Eorlund Gray-Mane worked. Akira had heard much about the man from Askar, whose axe was forged by Eorlund on his very forge ten years ago. His hair and beard were very grey, but like many Nord men, his muscles were still strong. Compared to the Breton's tiny arms, Eorlund looked like he could crush a giant's head with a skyforge steel warhammer.

"What brings you here?" Eorlund asked the young Breton woman as she approached.

"Vilkas asked me to drop off his sword so it may be sharpened."

"I'm guessing you're the newcomer, then?" He took the blade from Akira's hands as she held it out to him.

"Does Vilkas always send out the new recruits to perform errands like that?" Akira's tone was a bit serious, but the old man shook his head with a smile.

"Oh, don't worry about it. They were all whelps once. They just might not like to talk about it. And don't always just do what you're told. Nobody rules anybody in the Companions."

"Somebody has to be in charge, though."

"I don't know how they've managed it, but they have. No leaders since Ysgramor. Kodlak is the Harbinger, and he's a sort of advisor. But every man is his own; every woman her own."

"So are you a Companion?"

"Not actually a Companion, but none of them know how to work a forge properly, and I am honored to serve them. My name is Eorlund Grey-Mane. I work the skyforge. Best steel in all of Skyrim. All of Tamriel."

"I actually know who you are. You made a battle axe for Askar the Bold. Do you know him?"

"Askar? Why, I haven't heard that name in ten years. Yes, he was once a potential Companion. But after some time, he left Skyrim. I assume you traveled with him, then?"

"I did. He took me in eight years ago and showed me the way of combat. I owe him my life, in fact. Anyways, I should probably head back inside."

"I have a favor to ask of you quickly."

"What is it?"

"I have a shield I made for Aela. My wife is in mourning and I have to get back to her soon. Could you bring the shield to her for me?"

"Sure. I'm happy to lend a hand."

"That's a good woman." Eorlund handed her a steel shield and she began to walk back inside, noticing a few Companions sitting outside. They seemed to eye her as she entered the doors into the great hall, but Akira did not think they were bad looks. She couldn't see Aela upstairs so she headed back downstairs and looked in the rooms. Akira found that the Nord woman was speaking to a Nord man with no hair and the same armor as Kodlak and Vilkas in a room with a closed door. Akira opened the door and was glad she didn't barge in during anything truly important.

"Ysgramor himself wouldn't have the patience to deal with all the rabble around here." Aela spoke towards Akira when she stopped next to her.

"I have your shield Aela." Akira spoke cheerfully, hoping that Aela's welcome would be better than Vilkas's.

"Ah, good. I've been waiting for this... Wait. I remember you. So the old man thinks you have heart, I guess."

"You know this one?" The man asked. "I saw her training in the yard with Vilkas."

"Ah, yes. I heard you gave him quite a thrashing."

"Don't let Vilkas catch you saying that."

"Do you think you can handle Vilkas in a real fight?" Aela directed her question towards Akira.

"I'm not really one to boast about my combat prowess."

"Ah! A woman of action. Here, let's have Farkas show you where you'll be resting your head."

"Farkas!" The man shouted, bringing the attention of the Nord man that had been at the farm fighting the giant with Aela. Akira caught sight of him before he saw her, and the memory of his child-like stare sunk back into her head.

"Did you call me?" Farkas asked.

"Of course we did, icebrain." Aela replied snidely. "Show this new blood where the rest of the whelps sleep."

Akira nearly became infuriated when they referred to Farkas as an icebrain, but the man seemed to let that slide.

"New blood?" Farkas actually looked at Akira, and his facial expression seemed to change back to the one he had on the farm. "Oh, I remember you. Come on, follow me."

Akira did as he bid, but waited to speak until after she left the room. "Do they always call you names like that?"

"Skjor and Aela like to tease me, but they are good people." Farkas said cheerfully. "They challenge us to be our best."

"I figured they just liked being mean, but I'll go along with your suggestion."

"Nice to have a new face around. It gets boring here sometimes. I hope we keep you. This can be a rough life."

"My life's been rough enough already. I crave to be with honorable warriors who would seek adventure and companionship. I've been alone for two months travelling all the way from High Rock."

"A great distance, I assume." Farkas nodded. "The quarters are right here. Just pick a bed and fall in when you're tired. Tilma will keep the place clean. She always has. All right, looks like the others are waiting to meet you. Come to me if you want any jobs to do."

"Do you have anything I could do right now?"

"Eager to get started immediately?"

"I figure 'why not? I can start immediately to get warmed up for the whole experience.'"

"All right. We've got a report of bloodsuckers hiding out near Riften. Think you've got what it takes to clear them out?"

Akira had never fought against a vampire before. Askar's tales of vampires were frightening to say the least. But they die like any mortal being. "I think I can handle it." She was glad there was confidence in her voice, thank Kynareth.

"Good. Head to Blood Fang Cave. But be careful. One bite from them and you might end up as one of them. If that happens, drink a potion of cure disease, or find a chapel and pray. The divines bless those who follow their example, and they can cure diseases inflicted upon their followers."

"I'm glad Kynareth smiles upon me, then. I'll be back once those bloodsuckers are defeated." Akira bowed towards Farkas and headed out, ready to prove herself to the Companions.

Farkas could hear his wolf speak to him inside his mind.

_She is strong. But she hides something from her past._

_What? What is she hiding?_

_I don't know. Perhaps it is something painful. We should watch her carefully._

_Why? She doesn't look like she's in pain._

_Use your instincts. She has suffered. She seeks a family to replace the one she lost. We can give her that family._

_Are you saying we should become her mate or something?_

_Consider it a suggestion. You control us even as the blood calls you to take my form. If you decide to take an interest in her, it will be your choice. But trust me when I say she is your perfect mate._

_Fine. I'll keep an eye on her and befriend her. But there will be no talk of mating unless she and I actually want to become mates. Understand?_

_Very well, Farkas. I will speak no more of the subject._

Farkas smiled as the wolf submerged itself within his conscience and became silent.

Along the path to Riften, Errick couldn't hear the shouts for 'Silly-Mask Willie' to get off of that stolen horse anymore. He guessed the Whiterun guard stopped chasing after the infamous horse thief a mile away from where he was now. Laughing his head off he took off his glamour mask, feeling the fresh air hit his face. Silly-Mask Willie was a renowned horse thief across all of Tamriel. What everyone doesn't know, however, is that the mask is enchanted to make whoever wears it Silly-Mask Willie. It was like the Gray Fox's cowl for the Thieves Guild's 'immortal' leader. Errick himself actually stole it from the last owner in Cyrrodil, and he was surprised that it was a orc woman who liked to eat horse meat.

Opening his enchanted jacket he slipped it into one of its many inside pockets, pulling out his enchanted dwarven goggles from another pocket before closing up his jacket. The goggles he found in a dwarven ruin full of bandits that were clearing out a falmer problem somewhere along the borders of Skyrim, and their special charm was their ability to see through locks and machinery, which gave him an edge picking locks on safes not many other thieves could pick. He rarely ever lost any of his picks using those goggles.

"Thank those goody-two-shoes divines and the devilish-and-dastardly daedra that I am the best thief in the business. And all of my gadgets are cool, too."

**"I'm'a let you finish," **A strange voice spoke near Errick, causing him to look around. **"but the Gray Fox is the best thief in all of history, and he did that without gadgets."**

Errick looked at the horse. "Are you talking to me?"

**"Am I talking to you? No shit, thief! Who else is there to talk to on this fucking road?!"**

Errick shook his head. "I'm not drunk on the job again, am I? I mean, I did have a bottle of ale before I stole your black horse ass, but I don't remember getting drunk beforehand. Maybe that rock that crazy Nord threw at me screwed up something in my brain."

**"No shit, your mind's screwed up if you stole a daedric horse."**

"A what?"

**"Come on, now. Don't you have the common sense not to steal from a daedra? My master figured you'd learn by now after you swiped that blade from our realm."**

"Hey, first there's no proof I swiped anything from a daedric realm. And second, after I swiped that blade, I couldn't return it because it won't leave my presence. Third, spoiler alert, everyone!"

**"Exactly. And you already hear the voices from them telling you to take a life. But despite your black heart, thief, you're about as much of a goody-two-shoes as those divines you don't care about. So not only are you mentally screwed over by those daedra in that thing, but you'll also be physically screwed when my master finds me again. He'll rip your skin off your body and force you to suck his cock before he splits your head open!"**

"Okay, I get your master is an unforgiving daedra, and I'm'a let you finish, but Molag Bol is the greatest dominator that has ever existed in the planes of Oblivion. And your master is obviously not Molag Bol because he would've stopped me _before _I stole you. So if you think I'm afraid of a daedric whelp, you're sorely mistaken."

**"How- how dare you! You would slander my owner in such a way, thief?! My master will torture your soul in Oblivion forever!"**

"I don't think that's going to happen because I'm one of the main characters of the book and I get to do amazing things like break the fourth wall and lots of other cool shit!"

**"What the- what?! What in Dagon's name are you talking about?!"**

"Exactly! So shut up and when I'm fifty meters away from Riften I will feed you sugar and send you back to your master. Okay?"

**"Fuck off."**

"Okay. Thieves rule. Horses drool." Errick drove the horse to ride faster, wanting to be rid of it before he ended up chopping it open and selling its meat to the markets of Riften. The horse grudgingly obliged, but rather wanted to throw Errick into a tree so he could just die. A travel carriage was in front of them with a Dunmer in the back, and Errick knew it was headed to Riften.

"Here's some sugar for your return trip, horsey." Errick slipped it into a small pocket on the satchel, and stood on the horse's back before jumping into the carriage as the horse stopped running. Errick landed gracefully in the back, startling the driver but not the Dunmer.

"Are you here to rob us?" The carriage driver asked.

"Is this the ferry to Riften?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm here for a ride." Errick handed twenty gold to the driver.

"What about your horse?"

Errick saw the horse running the opposite way now, heading back to Whiterun. "I borrowed it from a friend so I could catch up. I just missed you when you left. Besides, there's something wrong with that horse."

"Uh, okay." The driver turned around and continued bringing them to Riften. Errick looked at the Dunmer, who continued staring at his feet. His brown hood blocked his face from Errick, which reminded him how much he hated hoods when stealing things. When it was on travellers or mercenaries it was far worse. It made them seem less of a target and more of a threat.

"We're travelling awfully fast for a carriage, aren't we?" Errick asked the driver.

"My other passenger asked me to make haste to Riften. He said something about his grandmother was dying and he urgently needed to see her before it happened. The carriage can't handle too much, but my horse is strong enough to pull it fast enough for us to make it to Riften before sundown. There should still be daylight across Riften by the time we're there. Thank goodness there hasn't been any bandit attacks on the roads."

"Bandits can be dispatched in seconds." The Dunmer spoke coldly, sending a chill down Errick's spine. "If any are stupid to try and attack us, I will handle it for you."

"All right." The driver nodded, continuing with his job again.

"So, what brings you to Riften, horse jumper?" The Dunmer spoke towards Errick, who put his comedic personality back together.

"Horse jumper? I should use that. Anyways, I came to help an old friend with a problem."

"What sort of problem?"

"Business problem."

"I see."

"What about you, mercenary? What's your grandmother dying of?"

"Stress."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah. A bunch of children being troublemakers outside her house made her trip and crack a few ribs. The healers did everything they could but they're afraid she might not make it."

"Damn. My father died the same way. Got drunk one night and fell off a building. Well, actually it was the white-gold tower about a month before I was born. I was his bastard son and pretty much grew up doing what he did."

"Which was?"

Errick smiled. "Fishing." He lied, but at the same time he was telling the truth. He fished for people's coin purses and personal belonging inside their homes.

The Dunmer smiled back with an evil grin. "Fishing." Errick could tell the Dunmer knew he was lying, but neither of them said anything else about it after that. Instead, the rest of the ride to Riften was quiet, which set the mood for what was to come next.

_"So what was that about Errick talking to a daedric horse and 'breaking the fourth wall?'" Ronan asked._

_"That's what he had written in his journal." Zacharius stated. "I think it makes telling the story a bit more funny. Why? Do you disagree?"_

_"Nah, I was just wondering if it was going to be a repeating theme."_

_"Right. Anyways, Stryger and I were actually doing the same thing around the same time: slaying the undead draugr in ancient Nordic tombs. Both tombs held secrets that were preserved and hidden for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. And both of these secrets marked our destinies as the dragons rose from their graves."_

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, Errick breaks the fourth wall.

Anyways, I hope that was a good chapter. I somehow found a way to throw everybody in so congrats to me. And yes, I'm making it obvious that Akira and Stryger are to get hitched to Farkas and Brelyna, respectively. They were the other two names to be on the list of characters besides Dragonborn/Dovahkiin and Lydia. And there are many secrets that all of the characters carry, which will be completely revealed in the time to come.

Also, if anyone who ends up reading this story that beta-reads for anyone else, I would like your help. I'm not asking for beta-readers for my stories, but I have a friend that's new to the site that would like to know how to send someone his chapters to beta-read. I have created a beta-reading account to do that for him, but I myself am not sure of how he is to send me chapters to beta-read. If anyone knows how to do it, message either myself or Zombarbment on this site so he can release his Fallout story after I beta it for him. I would like to help my friend make his mark on the site the way he wishes to do it.

Now, I think I'm going to work on the other story for a bit.


	6. Chapter 5: Necromancy

Chapter 5: Necromancy

_"So when you went to Bleak Falls Barrow, you ran into the draugr from legend, right?" Torygg asked._

_"Yes, and I've sent the undead back to Sovngarde many times over. But two things happened that I did not expect. One, I found the first word of power I ever learned."_

_"And the second thing?"_

_"There was a stranger waiting for me up at the top of the mountain at the entrance to Bleak Falls Barrow. And there was a necromancer that appeared. I never saw him, or perhaps her, but the rising corpses could be seen every time I thought they were cut down. At the same time, Stryger was dealing with his own draugr problem in Saarthal."_

"Man, I'm glad my Nord blood is helping me through the cold of the mountain." Zacharius spoke to himself as he climbed up the mountain. His arms were getting the worst of the cold, but they could take it. Sometime soon he should consider buying a cloak. It may help him in the colder provinces should he have to travel far.

The path to Bleak Falls Barrow was snowy and easy to climb up. But Zacharius figured that there would be bandits. However, he's only seen corpses at the tower near the path to the entrance of Bleak Falls Barrow. That was strange for him to see, but if a disagreement came up between a few of their own bandits, it made perfect sense as to the stab wounds all over their body.

"Hmm. Looks like a greatsword wound. And the wounds are fresh. Whoever did this is still around." Zacharius stood up away from the corpse, noticing that there was a steel sword laying on the ground. "Hmm. Steel is good for weapons in Skyrim. It looks a bit dull, though. Perhaps I could head back to Whiterun or Riverwood and get it sharpened."

He picked the sword up and removed the sheath from the dead bandit so he could carry it safely on his back with his bow and arrows. But he would need something else to carry the Dragonstone if it was bigger than he thought. Perhaps there would be a backpack up at the place he could use.

The entrance to Bleak Falls Barrow was impressive for an ancient ruin. The fact that it had survived the years made it more impressive, and Zacharius had to appreciate his ancestors for possessing such craftsmanship. Already more bandits lay dead at the entrance, and a man who appeared to be a Vigilant of Stendarr stood with a greatsword in his hands. The Vigilant had to have been an Imperial or Breton by his size, and the greatsword was stained in the blood of the fallen as the tip pierced the ground. The one thing that felt off was that this man wore a steel plate helmet instead of a hood.

_"I've been waiting for you, Zacharius Morrigan." _The man spoke, an etheral echo ringing along his voice.

"You've heard of me?" Zacharius asked.

_"I have eyes and ears all around Tamriel, and while I may be dressed like a simple Vigilant of Stendarr, I assure you that I am not affiliated with the group."_

"Who are you?"

_"I have gone by many names over time, but The Stranger has always been what most call me. If that is not sufficient enough, you may call me Advena."_

"So, Advena, what brings you out here to an ancient Nordic ruin?"

_"Besides waiting for you? I have actually come for an Ancient Nord Greatsword. Alvor the blacksmith wishes to reward me for rescuing his nephew Hadvar from Helgen, who I know you were with up to a certain point."_

"Hadvar? He lives?"

_"He does, but he does not know that you and Ralof made it to Riverwood. That helmet might conceal your identity enough for you to stay off of the Legion's radar. Neither of them know it yet, but the threads of destiny are bringing the two of them to a confrontation near the end of the war. And you won't be able to stop it because you will be occupied with other business at the time."_

"What is that supposed to mean?"

_"I have already said too much. I shall say no more." _The Stranger held out a backpack to Zacharius. _"In the meantime, perhaps this enchanted backpack will help you out more than it will me. It has an enchantment that stores equipment and other items taken from adventuring in a larger space inside than what it is outside. That sword on your back can be carried much easier now."_

Zacharius took the bag and removed the sword from his back, dropping it in. "Thank you."

_"I've already took the liberty of placing a woodcutter's axe and pickaxe along the sides of the backpack to collect firewood and ore materials, as well as things to build a campsite for two. Be warned, however, that the backpack can and will get heavy over time, so if you ever build or buy a house in Skyrim it is best to empty some of the things you carry to make journeying easier."_

Zacharius slipped the backpack on after his satchel had been emptied of its contents. His longbow was in his hands and ready to be used. "So are you accompanying me into the ruins?"

_"Yes. I will follow you into the ruins and will head back to Riverwood after you have completed your goal for being here. Whether or not we shall meet again afterwards will all depend on how your story unfolds."_

"I assume that since you know my name and how I escaped with Ralof that you also know why I am here."

_"I do. You seek the Dragonstone. But it exists beyond a puzzle door that only a special key can reveal. It shall be inside on the corpse of a dead bandit that met an ill-received fate."_

"May I ask how you know?"

_"The same way your grandfather knew of the Dragonborn prophecy that is in effect now as we speak. I have an attunement to the Elder Scrolls and their knowledge, but they; like myself, are a mystery."_

"What do you mean 'like myself'?"

_"I do not understand the Elder Scrolls and how they work, but they don't understand me in the process. They can't see me, they can't read my future, and when I pull strings they say can't be pulled, they are at a loss. Not many beings are meant to change fate, but there are those who can just by being there as they are." _The Stranger pulled his sword out of the ground, cleaning the blade with a rag from a dead bandit. _"We're wasting daylight. We may converse a bit more inside, but the draugr demand silence. We must be cautious when we walk by the dead."_

Zacharius only nodded, but he still possessed questions for Advena as he wished to be called. "Let's go inside, Advena. The dead won't go back to Sovngarde themselves."

Back at Saarthal's entrance, Stryger munched on his green apple as J'zargo and Ormund, as Tolfdir had called them, approached them from the stairs down to the ruin.

"Took you guys long enough." Stryger commented.

"Sorry. J'zargo wanted me to check out this fire cloak scroll of his he was working on." Ormund apologized.

"More like rubbing his face in it." J'zargo snickered.

"Not everything is a competition, J'zargo."

"Oh, but life is a competition, Ormund. I figured you'd know about that since your people are still fighting for Skyrim against the Empire."

"War is different from competition, you know."

Stryger pulled out another apple from his satchel. "Apple?"

Ormund looked at Stryger and took the apple, being a little cautious in case Stryger had poisoned it.

"Relax." Stryger reassured him. "I'm not one of those Thalmor supporters with their 'Elven Superiority' shit. Nord are respected warriors, and it's not everyday I meet one that is a mage. I respect you and Tolfdir. This is just a small token of my appreciation."

With those words Ormund took a bite, enjoying the crispness of the fruit. "Thanks."

"How about you, J'zargo? Apple?"

The khajiit sneered. "J'zargo does not need any food from competition."

"It's still as crisp as the day that it was picked."

J'zargo's facial expression seemed to change from defiance to curiosity. "Do you have any red apples?"

Stryger smiled as he pulled out a red apple from his satchel and gave it to J'zargo. The feline mage took a large bite out of the side of the apple, and satisfaction came across his face.

"Now, I believe we are keeping Tolfdir and Brelyna waiting. Let's go inside where it'll be a little warmer." He allowed the other two mages enter the ruins first, closing the door once he entered himself.

"So everyone is here now?" Tolfdir asked as he tossed away his own apple core.

"Yep. We're all here now." Stryger gave the thumbs up.

"Okay. Let's get started. Now, as you all know, Saarthal was an ancient Nord city that was also the largest back then. Sacked by the elves in the infamous 'Night of Tears', not much else is known about Saarthal. This is an exciting opportunity for us to study the ruins for anything retaining to the history and magic to this place."

"Okay, what should we be doing?" Stryger asked.

"You can go and see if Arniel Game needs any help with anything. Brelyna, darling, could you look for any rune tracings on anything within the ruin? Don't try to tamper with them, just identify them."

Stryger nodded towards his command while Brelyna responded to him. Stryger moved around his friends and headed for the other teacher, igniting a candlelight spell over his head so he could see in the darkened rooms. After wandering around the ruin for a minute he eventually resorted to a clairvoyance spell just to find Arniel Gane. His spell ended when he reached a balding man in front of him.

"It's going to take forever to sort through everything!" The balding man randomly complained.

"Tolfdir sent me here to help you out." Stryger spoke, startling Arniel.

"He what? Oh, you must be one of the new apprentices. Why don't you go and search for any enchanted items within the nothern chambers. Please try to be careful. We don't want to break anything."

"Got it." Stryger ignited another candlelight spell over his head and looked around a bit more, picking up a few enchanted rings here and there. He shook his head over how the ancient Nords would leave such valuables laying around, even in ruins such as this. Catching the light the torch emited from another room, Stryger approached to see an amulet sitting in a wall. It caught his eye and he had to walk over and examine it more.

His curiosity was rewarded with an iron gate raising and trapping him in the room as the amulet was pulled out of the wall by his thin fingers.

Back at Bleak Falls Barrow, Zacharius and Advena had already killed the bandits from within the ruin guarding the path within. After collecting their arrows Zacharius was ready to continue, but he had some more questions.

"Why does your voice seem to echo, Advena?"

_"There are a number of reasons I can give you, but the only reason you might actually believe is that my helmet has a few enchantments placed upon it, which is true."_

"Okay." Zacharius shook his head. "Why is it you don't always seem to want to tell me everything I want to know? You're always dodging some of my questions with riddles and half-answers."

_"I live by the philosophy that I don't lie, but I just don't tell the truth. Most men have misinterpreted that as me saying I'm a liar, but in actuallity I speak only the truth. I just don't speak the whole truth."_

"Why don't you speak the whole truth?"

_"Sometimes not speaking the whole truth is actually a hint that you will find out the whole truth without my help in time. Sometimes it is because I find it is not my place to speak of some things because warning you could change too much of the story. Everyone's destiny is written into history, but only a few have the power to change their destiny."_

Zacharius was about to speak again when Advena raised his hand.

_"Do you hear that?" _Advena asked.

"No." Zacharius noted, but he looked down and grabbed a scroll.

_"Exactly. It seems I was right. Normally, there would've been cries for help. It seems I predicted correctly. The brigand is dead."_

"Brigand?"

_"The one with the key. We should be careful."_

Zacharius unrolled it for a second. "And if we need it, there's a fireball scroll here. Might come in handy later."

_"Perhaps." _Advena moved around the table and walked down the stairs, seeing a man stabbed by multiple darts in his face. _"Zacharius, the next room is trapped. We must be careful."_

"How can you tell?" Zacharius asked as he caught up, catching eye of the corpse in the next room. "Oh." He moved up and looked around, noticing no other traps in the room. He did, however, catch his eye on a few puzzles. "Hmm. Perhaps it's a puzzle. The bandit here didn't realize it was a puzzle, so this place became his tomb."

_"A good observation."_

"You knew about it, didn't you?"

_"I did."_

"I'm beginning to understand your philosophy, Advena." Zacharius looked around the room, pointing at three particular statue head carvings. "Look at their mouths. Symbols of animals just like on the pillars." Zacharius walked over to the pillars and turned the three of them to the animals he saw from the code the ancient Nords had hung out.

_"Snake, snake, whale." _Advena spoke, looking at the pillars before looking at the statue heads. _"That should do it."_

Zacharius approached the lever and pulled it, hearing a satisfying sound of a gate pulling itself up. "That did it. Let's keep moving inside."

Advena nodded as the two of them continued walking, stopping only when they heard a strange noise behind them. They turned around to see the dead bandit had arisen with the blue energies of conjuration magic around him.

"Tell me you brought him back from the dead." Zacharius stated, hoping that the corpse wasn't planning on fighting them.

_"I cannot raise the dead. It is against my morals." _Advena pulled his greatsword off of his back. _"That is a hostile corpse."_

"Who in Oblivion summoned him?!"

The corpse pulled out its mace and attempted to run towards them, but Advena raised his sword and a white glow seemed to emit from the blade. _"TASTE POWER!" _He threw the sword point towards the ground. An ice wall began to form on the ground, heading for the resurrected corpse. _"NOW ENOUGH!"_ The corpse was hit by the ice wall, turning into a pile of ash and snow on the ground.

Zacharius looked at Advena. "And how did you do _that?!_"

_"Like yourself, there is more to us than meets the eye." _Advena put his greatsword onhis back. _"We should move on. If the necromancer that raised the dead shows up, we will stop his or her madness."_

"All right, then." Zacharius still had an uneasy feeling about that necromancer, but Advena was powerful and should be trusted. After Zacharius searched through a chest, the two travellers continued down into the ruins, running into a bunch of spider webs. Zacharius cut through them with his sword, but he did not expect to see the giant frostbite spider behind them. It was eating a wrapped corpse on the wall, and Zacharius caught notice of a golden claw sticking out of the victim's cocoon.

_"In spider culture, females are always three times as big. That means if we kill this mother, there will be less spiders around for a while."_

Zacharius nodded, crouching and wiping the web off of his sword. "Go for the back of its legs. I'll take its face and attempt to kill it from the front." Zacharius walked around, getting into position without tripping over any corpses. When he signalled Advena to move, the mysterious Breton moved in and cut off the spider's back legs, satisfied as the creature shrieked at the loss of its legs. It threw another leg at Advena, but he merely parried it without any effort before cutting that off. The spider fell onto the ground as Zacharius jumped in the air and ran his sword through the creature's head.

_"A sound strategy. Your father must be proud you utilize everything he has taught you."_

"He is." Zacharius pulled the golden claw out of the cocoon along with a journal. "Is this the key you mentioned?"

_"Yes."_

"And this will open a door that leads to the Dragonstone?"

_"Precisely. The secret is on the claw itself. Look to the journal to understand more."_

Zacharius attached the claw onto his belt and flipped through the deceased's journal. "It mentions that when you have the golden claw, the solution is in your hands. I wonder what that means." He slipped the journal into his satchel for now, seeing as it was still around his side and he didn't want to unsling his backpack over his shoulders.

They continued through a hole in the wall that led to the crypts. Zacharius could see all of the dead sleeping in small cubbies within the walls. They were dried out and didn't seem capable of moving, but he knew otherwise that that was not the case.

_"Watch your step." _Advena had warned just as Zacharius's foot hit a pressure plate that sent a wall trap right at him.

Stryger noticed as Tolfdir walked over to the cage he got himself trapped in. The old man had a confused look on his face.

"What just happened? Are you all right?"

"Am I all right?!" Stryger freaked out. "I'm trapped in here!"

"How in the world did that happen?"

"I just pulled this amulet off the wall and BAM! Cage door rose and trapped me in here."

"That is interesting. Wait. Look at the wall. It looks as if there is magic flowing around it. See if that amulet of yours can do something about it."

Stryger looked at the spot he had pulled the amulet out from and noticed he was right. Slipping the amulet around his neck, Stryger went and threw a spell at the wall. The magic flame busted the wall open, and he smiled as he heard the gate drop. Then he saw Tolfdir head through the hole in the wall, and he had to run to catch up to him. The two mages had reached a small burial chamber that housed three coffins lined up on the walls.

Stryger suddenly felt as if the world was no longer spinning. A purple haze seemed to fill the room, and right in front of him lay an appiration of a Dunmer in orange robes.

_"Hold, mage."_ The Dunmer spoke. _"Know that you are about to set in motion a chain of events that can not be stopped. Judgement has not been passed, however, because you were unaware of what is to happen. Now it is in your power to stop what will happen or risk certain destruction to your college and the rest of Tamriel. Know that our order, the Psijic Order, is watching you, mage. Good luck."_

"What just happened?" Stryger heard Tolfdir asked. "I swear, I felt some kind of magical presence for a second."

Stryger placed his fingers onto his forehead. "I just had some kind of vision."

"Really? I didn't see anything. What happened in this vision?"

"A Dunmer who said he worked for the Psijic Order and that we've triggered events that could lead to dangerous consequences."

"The Psijic Order? That's amazing, if it's true. The Psijic Order hasn't been seen since they transported their island far away from Tamriel. But I don't know what their connection is to these ruins."

"Perhaps they know something we don't. You said the dark elves sacked this place and that it had magical properties. What if the ancient Nords had tried protecting some kind of magical artifact from the Dunmer and we're about to stumble upon it? And if it's as dangerous as the Psijic Order claimed, how do we handle it without causing some kind of apocalypse?"

"I guess we'll find out in time. Let's examine these coffins. Perhaps one of them holds a secret entrance."

As soon as Tolfdir had spoken those words, the coffin doors fell off, revealing three draugr. Stryger immediately bound a sword from the planes of Oblivion in his hand and fought off the draugr closest to him. Tolfdir shot lightning from his hands at the other two draugr, and Stryger's sword skills were put to the test against the one he was fighting. Swordplay wasn't his favorite form of combat, but it was still a necessity when summoning weapons. Once he found an opening, he stabbed the ghostly weapon through the draugr's chest, pulling it out and slicing at its neck for good measure.

"Well, at least you were right, professor." Stryger sighed as his weapon disappeared. "There's a secret entryway through this coffin. Shall we investigate?"

Tolfdir walked through first, and Stryger followed after he lit another candlelight spell.

_It was a stupid mistake. _Zacharius thought to himself as he breathed hard. The trap had nearly crushed him with those long spikes it had. Advena himself seemed to have taken a ghostly form and didn't move as it passed through him harmlessly. If Zacharius hadn't jumped back, he'd be dead already.

The draugr rose from their graves at the sound of the slamming gate.

_"Quickly, Zacharius!" _Advena yelled. _"Jump over the trap button!"_

Taking the powerful Breton's advice, Zacharius jumped over it before he could get himself killed by it and watched as the draugr walked right into their own trap. Advena turned back to his normal form, sparking another question in Zacharius.

"How did you turn yourself into a ghost?"

_"It is actually a dragon shout called Become Etheral. You literally become intangible, so no one can cause you harm. At the same time, however, you can't hurt anyone yourself. The ancient Nords have practiced the art of shouting for thousands of years. I myself had plenty of time to learn a few more words."_

"How much time?"

Before Advena could answer, however, the corpses that had been crushed by their own trap came back up, summoned again by the mysterious necromancer. A strange cackle could be heard echoing across the tomb, and Advena pulled his greatsword off of his back.

_"Continue moving through the tomb! I will hold off these creatures and catch up with you when I can!"_

"But-" Zacharius started to protest as Advena ran straight towards a draugr with a greatsword, stabbing it and picking up its weapon in his left hand. Advena then used both greatswords to deflect incoming blows from the other four draugr. Listening to Advena, Zacharius pulled out his sword and continued down the passageway. A draugr popped out of the wall and swung a battleaxe at him, making him step back to avoid being hit. He tried to stab the undead foe but instead got his sword caught in between the handle and the axe. The draugr then twisted his axe so Zacharius could lose the grip on his sword, and Zacharius was knocked onto the floor.

His bow fell off of his backpack and landed right next to him. Reaching for his dagger instead, Zacharius let the steel blade knock the undead Nord onto his knee as he sliced through the joint. He then thrusted the small blade into the draugr's eye, killing it. Three others began to approach, but Zacharius caught sight of an oil trap. Grasping his bow and an arrow from his quiver, Zacharius pulled back the string with all of his strength and let it loose, knocking the urn of oil that hung over the first draugr's head onto the ground. The sparks that flew combusted the oil and sent three more souls back to Sovngarde.

"I hope it's warm in Sovngarde, monsters." Zacharius muttered as he picked himself up and put away his weapons. He picked his sword up off the ground and wasn't surprised to see the unburned corpse rising back from the dead. Swinging his sword as quickly as possible, the risen corpse disintegrated into ash, granting Zacharius a moment to catch his breath before he continued on.

Advena was in a defensive position. Despite having slain the reawakened undead, he knew just who had been summoning these corpses back after they were slain a second time. The two greatswords in his hands were light as air, and his senses were acting wildly.

Finally, a black cloud flew around his head and landed in front of him, revealing a woman that was either a Daedra or a Dunmer. The daedric armor she wore was very revealing, and there were the many scars Advena had placed on her body that were not hidden by what parts of her armor she did wear. In her hands were a daedric sword and shield, and her mask hid her identity as much as his own.

_"Jornada." _Advena spoke calmly.

_"Alpha, so defensive as ever." _Her dark voice was as etheral as his own. That meant she had a clear mind. That would explain the necromancy she was pulling. The last time they were in this particular timeline, she had been a feral beast, and with the help of Caleb Secus she had been put down easily. But that was no longer the case now.

_"You know it is still my duty to put you down."_

_"Like you always do. But things are different this time, Alpha. I have the help of a Daedric Prince. Mehrunes Dagon has blessed me with the gifts to cause chaos within this realm, and I don't plan on having you or your plan get in the way of that."_

_"You know I can't allow that."_

_"Then you'll just have to stop me." _Jornada swung her sword at Advena, but he countered it with his iron greatsword. They continued to clash weapons for over a minute, never tiring themselves out as they swung and struck at each other. Suddenly, Jornada's swing snapped Advena's iron greatsword in half, and he resorted to stabbing her in the leg with it. Her cry of pain echoed throughout the tomb, and even Zacharius heard it as he walked into the inner sanctum. Advena took the ancient Nordic greatsword and attempted to finish her off, but Jornada turned herself back into the black cloud and retreated.

Zacharius was unsure as to what that loud sound was, but the dead reacted to it by waking up. He had to fight his way over to the puzzle door Advena had mentioned. Pulling out the golden claw from his satchel, he studied it and found that underneath it held three symbols that were also on the door.

"Another alignment game? Well, let's see." Zacharius twisted the rings on the door to the animals that were on the claw. "Bear, moth, owl. That should do it." He stuck the golden claw into the claw slots and turned it, hearing a satisfying click as the wheels spun to show all owls and begin to descend to reveal the passageway.

Stryger, on the other hand, wasn't having as much luck. After they had entered another room full of draugr, Tolfdir wanted to stay behind and study the coffins. That was fine by Stryger. Then there were a multitude of traps and draugr along the continued pathway to whatever it was that was dangerous enough to receive a vision from the Psijic Order about it. And just where it couldn't get worse, there were two puzzles in order to open doors. Stryger easily figured out the first one after he threw up a candlelight spell and saw that the ancient Nords were stupid enough to put up signs of what the animal needed to be. He figured the second one would be just as easy, but there were those that could turn the other mechanisms, ruining his progress.

"Julianos, give me the wisdom to solve this damn puzzle!" Stryger pulled a telekinesis spell out and spun all four blocks at once, landing them all on the right spot. The door in front of him opened, and Stryger was caught by surprise. "Hmm, I didn't actually think that would work. Thank you, Julianos."

Stryger walked through the corridors deeper into Saarthal until he heard Tolfdir yelling at him to wait up. Once the old man had caught his breath, they pressed on, opening the doors to a large chamber. Within it stood a large glowing orb that literally pulsed with magic.

"By Julianos, what is that?" Stryger's eyes grew wide at the object until he heard the unmistakable sound of a draugr. As he looked down, he saw an ancient Nord arising from the chair he sat in, wielding a war axe and a staff. Stryger threw a fireball at the undead nightmare, but the magic seemed to disperse around the battlemage, causing no damage to his target.

"Nothing seems to work against him!" Tolfdir shouted.

"Like hell nothing will!" Stryger jumped down and summoned his sword, facing the creature in single combat. The draugr attempted to use its staff, but Stryger gripped it with his fur glove and yanked it away. But all that did was make the battlemage grab Stryger's throat.

"I've got an idea!" Tolfdir shouted as he ran to the orb. "Just keep that thing busy!"

Stryger cried out as he was thrown into a wall. His back was sending signals across his body, but he could still pick himself up, which meant he was alive. "No problem." He muttered, getting back up and fighting the creature again. Tolfdir began to shoot lightning at the orb, and Stryger could visibly see the invulnerability barrier that the draugr had disappear before him.

With one swift move, Stryger sunk his summoned blade into the battlemage's chest, sending its soul back to Sovngarde (or wherever his soul belonged to).

"That's right!" Stryger yelled at the corpse. "You just got your ass beat by an elf! Think about that back in the afterlife!" When his excitement wore off, he looked at the corpse to see an amulet hanging around its neck. Reaching around, he unhooked it and brought it up. It looked like the amulet he found in the wall that started this whole mess, but it also looked incomplete, as if it was a fragment of a whole amulet. Seeing a scrap of paper tied around it, he removed it and unfolded it to read an ancient note:

_Be bound here, Jyrik, murderer, betrayer_

_Condemned by your crimes against realm and lord_

_May your name and deeds be forgotten forever_

_And the charm which you bear be sealed by our ward._

"Huh. I wonder what this guy did to get such a fate like that." Stryger then picked up the staff of Jyrick Gaulderson and twirled it in his fingers. The magics that existed both in the amulet and the staff were indeed quite powerful, and Stryger felt as if there was more to this than he figured. Slipping on the new amulet and placing the old one in his satchel, Stryger joined Tolfdir in front of the orb.

As the two mages conversed over the artifact they found, Zacharius himself was admiring the view of the caverns that the Dragonstone had to have been in. There was plenty of light coming from holes in the top, so Zacharius could see things clear as day. There was a large wall in the center with a coffin and a chest. Whatever this Dragonstone was, it had to be somewhere up there. Running along the pathway to the wall, he began his search of the Dragonstone. However, he couldn't shake the feeling he could hear... Chanting. That was what it sounded like. It sounded like a chorus of Nords chanting in a foreign tongue he couldn't quite make out. Looking away from the chest he was about to open, he saw the wall was glowing with a blue hue. More specifically, there was a word (at least, that's what he thought) that seemed to truly glow. The chanting was getting louder as he stared at it, and Zacharius couldn't help himself as he walked to the wall.

A strange energy seemed to surround him as he got closer. As the chanting grew louder, Zacharius's vision became fuzzier, and he could feel power seeping into him. It was a strange magic he had never felt before in his life, and it was very powerful indeed. Suddenly the chanting stopped and was replaced by one simple word that Zacharius seemed to understand.

_**FUS!**_

Zacharius shook his head as he felt his vision come back to him. He felt smarter than he was before, as if an ancient gift of knowledge had been bestowed upon him. Knowing his luck, he probably did learn something ancient.

A rumbling was heard behind him as his vision returned, and he saw as the coffin's lid flew off of the top. A draugr with a sword that seemed to emit Skyrim's coldest mountains and a shield that looked as black as the night popped out. Zacharius reacted by pulling out his sword and dagger. The draugr challenged him by beating his sword on his shield.

"What in Oblivion are you?"

The draugr pulled itself back, as if sucking in a breath. _"FUS-RO-DAH!"_

Zacharius watched as the creature's words echoed and hit Zacharius, nearly throwing him off of the side of the island the wall lay on. But Zacharius regained his balance fast enough to counter-attack, slamming his sword into the creature's shield. The draugr swung its sword at Zacharius, but he deflected it with his dagger. However, he still felt the icy chill it possessed. He stabbed his dagger into the draugr's chest, but it didn't go down. The draugr's shield immediately hit Zacharius in the chest, knocking him to the ground and making him drop his sword. As his enemy approached him, Zacharius immediately pulled out the scroll he found and activated the spell.

"Burn in Oblivion, you monster!" He formed the large fireball in both of his hands, throwing it before the draugr's sword stabbed him. The draugr flew back a little bit, falling on one knee as it burned. Not wasting his window of opportunity, Zacharius grabbed his sword and thrust it through the burning corpse. It slumped to the ground defeated.

Zacharius picked himself up and moved his muscles, hearing some popping and cracking from his fight. After he put his sword away, he removed his backpack, placing the enchanted sword and the shield he found within. Also seeing as there was no immediate danger, Zacharius was able to fit his long bow in one of the outside pockets on it, giving him easier access than attaching it to the back where it could break. When he saw that the chest did not have the Dragonstone, he merely took out what he figured would be valuable and any gold that was in it.

"Wonder if the dead guy here was guarding it while he slept." Zacharius went over to the tomb itself to see it laying right there. "Good. I was afraid this trip would be for nothing." He grabbed the Dragonstone with both hands and slipped it into his backpack carefully. It made the thing a lot heavier, but Zacharius could carry it to Whiterun before it got dark.

_"I see you recovered what you were looking for."_

Zacharius pulled out his sword and pointed it at Advena, who didn't flinch as the blade nearly cut off his head.

Zacharius lowered his blade. "Sorry. You just caught me off guard."

_"I do that to people sometimes. The necromancer that had been reviving the dead has fled. I plan on chasing after them as soon as Alvor is done creating my new sword. My old one broke during the fighting, but I managed to draw blood with it."_

"Who was that necromancer?"

_"I should not say more, but we have crossed paths many times before. The necromancer was mainly targeting me, but now you might be as much of a target just for associating with me. Be on alert from now on." _Advena then walked over to the word wall. _"Ah, dragon script. This wall contains words in the ancient dragon tongue. It is incredibly old, but their words are powerful."_

"So I just learned a word of power?"

_"Yes, in fact. Now all you have to do is figure out how to unlock it. Knowing a word is different rom being able to use it. But I know you'll figure it out soon enough." _Advena reached into Zacharius's satchel. _"In the meantime, we'll go our separate ways. This claw was recently stolen from a resident in Riverwood. I will return it to them while you get the Dragonstone to Whiterun. We may run into each other in the future, Zacharius Morrigan, but until then, walk towards your destiny and embrace it with open arms."_

Zacharius was about to ask what he he meant by that, but The Stranger had disappeared right before his eyes.

After Stryger and Tolfdir had made some small observations about the artifact, Tolfdir decided Stryger should go tell the Arch-Mage of their discovery while Tolfdir guarded it. Stryger agreed, but only because he wanted to get out of the ruins. Immediately after leaving the room with the orb in it, however, he ended up hearing chanting and found that a wall was glowing around a strange word. When Stryger walked up to it to investigate, he felt a strange magic envelop him, and he almost fainted from it. But when it was finished, a word echoed in his mind.

_**IIZ!**_

"IIZ! What in Oblivion is that supposed to mean? And why does it feel like it got colder?"

Shaking his head of the word, he continued on until he was out of Saarthal and heading to the College.

_"So who, or perhaps what, was Advena?" Ronan asked._

_"To this day, even I don't know. But I do know he was older than he appeared, wise and powerful. I haven't seen him in a long time. Maybe it was for the best."_

_"This is what leads up to you slaying your first dragon, right?" Torygg asked._

_Zacharius chuckled "Yes, Torygg. This is what lead up to not only my first dragon I slayed, but the first time I felt like I was a part of Skyrim."_

AUTHOR'S NOTE: What a long chapter. I hope it was entertaining enough.

Anyways, if you're wondering as to who this 'Jornada Del Muerto' is and haven't read my Mass Effect story, all you need to know is that she is the nemesis of The Stranger who always undergoes a process of reincarnation and tries to kill him, since they are the only ones who can hurt each other. This is the second time they have encountered each other in Tamriel, and you'll learn more about their first fight as the story progresses.

Now, for those who missed how none of the other characters appeared in this chapter, do not worry. Errick and Scarlai are definitely going to reappear in the next chapter. Speaking of Errick, he's going to meet up with a guest character from another novel in the chapter after the next one, but I won't go and reveal who it is until that chapter. As for the creator of that guest character, I'll be sending you that particular segment of the chapter to make sure I get things right for her appearance. It would suck if things were incredibly inaccurate.

Shoutouts to Admiral Anderson and SpiritofJazz for keeping up with my story so far. The more reviews I get, the faster I'll try to unveil the chapters for more followers.


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